Shades of Grey
by BebopQueen
Summary: (HGDM)The world is falling apart around them, but neither cares. Blood is shedding and people are dying but when they kiss, all is forgotten. Among the darkness, there is still a shard of hope to see if love truly conquers all.
1. The Beginning

Disclaimer-I don't own anything except the plot of this story. The characters are all JK Rowling's.  
  
Summary-(takes place in the gang's 6th year after OotP so there are spoilers) No one knows, but You-Know-Who has a limit, and he needs to find a replacement, but who? And no, it isn't Harry. Also, an unlikely romance that could save the world, or end it.  
  
Chapter 1  
  
The Beginning  
  
The summer was uneventful. Voldermort's return to power had just become known to the people of the wizarding world, and everyone was fearful of what was to come. Children were brought in an extra hour early from play, for anything could lie in the darkness, and Quidditch seemed a little less important these days.  
  
The Order of the Pheonix was still stationed at number 12 Grimmauld Place, even though the place seemed even more destitute after Sirius's death, but Mrs. Black appeared to be quite pleased with the change in atmosphere. You could hear her maniacal laughter echo through the halls as she conversed with the head of Kreacher which now decorated the wall along with his ancestors'.  
  
But nothing like this was what concerned Draco Malfoy as he sat alone in his room in the Malfoy Manor, alone. In a week, he would return to Hogwarts for another "fun"-filled year. This, he actually looked forward to, but what Draco dreaded was the present. Today was the day Lucius, his father, would return from Azkaben. All of the prisoners who were still in their right mind had escaped because the dementors were gone, vanished overnight. Just the thought that creatures like that were lurking in alleys and streets, terrified everyone, but not Draco. The only thing he feared at the moment was his father; that insane man was capable of almost anything in a rage, and he would certainly be angry when he got home. Voldermort would be punishing him for his weakness in getting caught very soon, and Lucius would try to regain most of his self-pride by beating the closest living thing worthy of a challenge, his son.  
  
Oh yes, Draco had been beaten countless times before, but tonight, he sensed, it would be much worse. The same routine, he would be lectured about pride and power and then hit physically; harder and harder until he no longer cried out in pain, for Malfoys show no pain, or any sign of emotion for that matter. No emotions except conceit, arrogance, and hatred. This was the way his world was. Nothing that brought true and complete pleasure was allowed. But how could Draco miss these things when he had never felt them before? So he felt no pity for himself.  
  
Silence. Then Draco heard the large oak door downstairs creak open eerily and shut with a great force that sent tremors throughout the mansion. It was time. A house elf appeared in Draco's doorway sending a message from Lucius which demanded his presence in the study, immediately.  
  
After a few minutes of staring blankly into space, Draco stood and descended the large, twisting staircase. His breath caught in his throat as an ominous draft traveled by him which sent a shiver down his spine. He was going to suffer tonight and there was nothing he could do about it, yet. Someday Draco knew his father was going to die at his hands, he just didn't know when. Draco arrived at the door leading to pain, and opened it. Lucius stood with his back toward his son, staring into the blazing fire. When the door closed he turned with death and anticipation unmistakingly reflected in his eyes.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Hermione grew colder as another slice of wind penetrated her thin cloak. It whistled past her ear and scattered the leaves on the ground, but still there was no turning back. She had to find him. He was all she had left, and she loved him more than anything in the world, but she had never told him and now it was to late. Why must mother nature be so evil!? She remebered their last encounter and, oh and that kiss which she wished had lasted forever. She stumbled on the undergrowth and fell, scratching her arms. There was no will for her to continue.  
  
Alas, voices. Two, she thought. Quickly, Hermione got up and ran toward the direction they were coming from and soon she could see the speakers conversing loudly in the darkness of a hollow in the Forbidden Forest.  
  
"You leave her out of this!" the first one screamed. He seemed to be about her age and had his back toward her, so she couldn't see his face. The adolescent was wearing a dark grey sweater with black pants and no real protectio0n from the harsh winter air. He was tall and muscular, but not bulky and had snowy blonde air that glowed and set him apart in the darkness. The other, however, she could see.  
  
"Filthy traitor! You would be dead right now if I didn't need you! When will you learn that love is just an emotion, it shouldn't rule your useless life! I am power! I will win the war! And all of the mudbloods will be rid of!"  
  
With that Hermione mad a wimper, and two wands were suddenly pointed at her heart. The one closer her to her was lowered as soon as the noise was identified, but the other remained.  
  
"Hermione!"  
  
She heard someone call her name, but it seemed very distant, not apart of the scene.  
  
The man in the back looked at her under the hood of his black robe with his fiery red eyes and began muttering.  
  
"Why are you here!"one of the voices said.  
  
"Hermione!" again the distant voice.  
  
"Avade Ked-"  
  
"No!"  
  
"Hermione wake up! We're leavind for Diagon Alley in an hour!" 


	2. We Meet at Last

Disclaimer-I don't own anything except the plot of this story. The everything else is JK Rowling's.  
  
Summary-(takes place in the gang's 6th year after OotP so there are spoilers) No one knows, but You-Know-Who has a limit, and he needs to find a replacement, but who? And no, it isn't Harry. Also, an unlikely romance that could save the world, or end it.  
  
Chapter 2  
  
We Meet at Last  
  
Hermione jerked awake, and realized that she wasn't in the Forbidden Forest or cold. Actually, she was quite comfy in Ginny's warm bed. She was staying at the Weasley's, as she had been all summer because of recent events. The members of the Order didn't think it was safe for them to stay at the Black household in case Voldermort did get wind of what it was, and plus, everyone knew that the children would find a way to learn their plans and they didn't need a couple of kids interfering.  
  
"I'm awake Ron, go away!" she shouted through the door to her friend. She stayed in bed for a few more seconds then decided that she really did need to start getting ready. She threw on some clothes, and started downstairs with her odd dream quickly fading from memory.  
  
"Ron, if Harry's stuck at the Dursley's, how is he going to get his school supplies?" she questioned as she entered the kitchen. Ron looked up at her bewildered with a mouth disgustingly full of eggs.  
  
"Oh, we're getting them for him, dear," Mrs. Weasley replied in place of her son.  
  
"Just wondering. I can't wait until we get to see him tomorrow. I wonder what awaits us this year at school."  
  
"It's going to be very different with You-Know-Who back and all."  
  
"Yes very different."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Be home before dinner-time; if you aren't your father is going to be very upset. Now hurry along," Narcissa Malfoy said to her son as he set off to Diagon Alley to buy school supplies. He nodded indifferently and stepped into the fireplace.  
  
"Diagon Alley!" he shouted and a moment later he was in the middle of a busy street. Everyone was doing last minute school shopping. Draco turned toward his favorite shop, Quality Quidditch Supplies but stopped short as someone bumped into him rather forcefully and caused him to fall on his butt.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't see where - Malfoy what are you doing here!?" Hermione spat out as she recovered herself.  
  
"Buying school supplies just like everyone else mudblood. Now get out of my sight!" Draco said standing up.  
  
"Don't talk to her like that Malfoy!" Ron said as he came up behind Hermione.  
  
"Oh you aren't even worthy of my presence Weasley," Draco said calmly as he walked away quickly.  
  
"I can't believe he dares to show his slimy face him public after all his family has done," Ron remarked.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
.  
"Harry! It's so good to see you!" Hermione yelled as she ran up to her friend to give him a suffocating hug. Ron ran toward him also but only greeted him with a 'manly' handshake and a slap on the back. After everyone had said their good-byes, the three pals boarded the Hogwarts Express together which was going to leave any minute.  
  
They found an empty compartment and started chatting endlessly about the summer. The Dursleys hadn't been horrible to Harry over the break, he reported, but they weren't nice, just decent. When the conversation got boring, the boys started talking endlessly about Quidditch, as if nothing had happened that summer, as if life were normal, as if all problems were non-existent.  
  
After a while, the door to the compartment slid open and the group expected it to reveal someone like Neville or Ginny, but no. Draco Malfoy stood smirking in the doorway, alone. Harry, Ron, and Hermione jumped to their feet ready for an attack, but the enemy just stood their. Ron spoke first,  
  
"Where are your two pets, Malfoy? Did they finally grow brains and get away from you, or are they lost? Trains can be awfully confusing to things like them."  
"Well," Draco started, "I guess I don't know where they are, nor do I care. I really wish I could kill those two apes."  
  
Everyone seemed startled by this, Draco criticizing his own 'friends'.  
  
"Damn Potter, you look even more starved than usual. Aw, is little- ol Voldermort scaring poor Harry Poo-poo-head?" he said in a baby voice, "Oh right, you're probably staying with the Weasel family, and they don't even have enough money to feed the gnomes in the backyard, much less an extra guest."  
  
Ron's face grew red as he tried to restrain himself, but he couldn't take the taunting anymore and lashed out at Draco who dodged easily. The next few minutes consisted of Ron attempting to bet Draco to a pulp, but he just glided around the cabin, evading punches expertly. Soon, Draco threw a few hits himself, landing them in Ron's face, stomach, and a kick in the shoulder. Now Harry was steamed too and hit Draco in the face. It wasn't bad, only a cut on the cheek, but it was enough to start a riot.  
  
"Enough!" Hermione screamed. Everything stopped in mid-air. Ron had Draco in a head-lock, and Harry was against the wall, almost unconscious.  
  
"Malfoy get out of here before I hex you, and trust me I've been practicing!"  
  
"I will not," he yelled straightening up, "be ordering around by a filthy mudblood!" Both boys started yelling crude insults at him but it was Hermione who got him out. She drew her wand and pointed it straight at the boy and yelled,  
  
"OUT!"  
  
He left, but only after he got a few more words in. So the three friends returned to their seats; Harry with a bloody nose, Ron with a swollen eyes, and Hermione with tears in her eyes. 


	3. New Classes

Disclaimer-I don't own anything except the plot of this story. Everything else is JK Rowling's.  
  
And thank you to my "many" reviewers for your support. I'm gonna try to make the chapters more juicier as the plot unfolds.  
  
Chapter 3  
  
New Classes  
  
"Students and faculty, you have all most likely heard of Voldermort's unfortunate return. I assure, however, that the situation is being closely watched by the Ministry of Magic and other organizations. I also assure that Hogwarts in one of the safest places to be in this given situation and that you have nothing to fear, but just for your safety, a number of highly trained and skilled aurors will monitor the school grounds and corridors.  
  
Other than a few strangers wandering the halls, everything else will proceed as normal including Quidditch practices and other extra-curricular activities. On a much softer note, I take pleasure in presenting our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Miss Jillian Stults; please rise, Professor. Thank you. I wish that you welcome her with all due kindness and respect."  
  
The woman that stood up was beautiful, Hermione noticed as the school clapped heartily. She had glossy golden hair that tumbled down her back in graceful waves and peridot eyes that glistened like jewels. All of the boys were looking at her as if she were a veela or something of the sort, but she wasn't, she was only just a normal woman.  
  
"As you already know," she began warmly, "my name is Jillian Stults. I was in my training to be an auror when Dumbledore approached me with this offer. I believe I will enjoy teaching you this year, and in other years, but the future is very hazy for me at the moment. Thank you." She sat.  
  
Dumbledore began again his welcoming speech with normal school topics like the Forbidden Forest and prefects, blah, blah, blah. But no one was looking at him, they were all staring at Professor Stults who was focused completely on the headmaster. Soon, he finished and mounds upon mounds of food appeared on the tables, and the school began to dig in, as if none of them were fed at home.  
  
"So Harry, what do you think of the new teacher," Ron began as the wonder-trio exited the Great Hall with full bellies and headed toward the Gryffindor common room alone, since the fifth year prefects were taking the newly arrived first years to their dormitories.  
  
"She seems, er, nice, I guess," Harry said smiling.  
"Ugh, you two are hopeless, all it takes is a pretty face and you're strung. Are you ever going to learn that looks aren't everything?"  
  
"Oh come on Hermione. At least she seems better than that old broad we had last year."  
  
"I guess, but-,"  
  
The friends stopped. Something, well someone, had blocked their path to the Tower.  
  
"Get out of our way, Malfoy," Ron spat, "Have you come for another beating or are you just being a git?"  
  
"If my memory still serves me, which I believe it does, it was you and Potter that were getting the worse beating, Weasley. I just came for a pleasant chat with my favorite mudblood."  
  
His eyes turned toward Hermione, and he smirked.  
  
"Don't call her that!" Harry intervened.  
  
"Oooh, what are you gonna do, threaten me to death? I don't scare that easily, Potter. Now, if you don't believe me I would be more than happy to-,"  
  
"If you wanna fight, then stop talking and throw some punches, or are you too scared that we'll scar your ugly little ferret face!" Ron yelled his face turning red.  
  
"At least I have enough money to buy decent robes, but your whole family can't even afford that much. In fact-,"  
  
"Shut up, Malfoy!" Hermione shrieked, "just tell us what you want and get out!"  
  
His composure returned, and he started with a menacing tone,  
  
"Like I was about to say, Professor McGonagall wishes to see Granger in her office immediately with me to escort her, as my presence is requested also."  
  
The two angry boys eyed their enemy suspiciously for a moment before Hermione spoke.  
  
"Fine, let's go. I'll meet you two in the common room," she said facing the two boys, and she left.  
  
"Do you know what she wants?" Hermione asked as she and Draco walked to the transfiguration classroom.  
  
"No, mudblood. And don't you think that if I knew, I would have mentioned it before now.?"  
"Well you can be surprisingly gittish sometimes so I wouldn't put it past you."  
  
"Oh, thank you. Your compliments mean so much to me. Here we are."  
  
The two entered McGonagall's office, and found that it was surprisingly full of students. Most of them seemed to be seventh years but Hermione recognized two fellow sixth years not including Malfoy.  
  
"Ahh, we're all here," McGonagall began, "You are all some of the most intelligent, clever, and skilled witched and wizards presently residing in Hogwarts, and you have all been chosen for something very special happening in Hogwarts this year. In June, most of you will be venturing out into the real world with only the standard amount of magical training. Recent events have allowed us to believe that this may not be enough the protect you against some of the darkest magic known to man-kind.  
  
Headmaster Dumbledore and I believe that you all have the abilities to study and master some of these higher levels of magic successfully and therefore have been chosen to participate in new class available in Hogwarts. It will proceed like any other class, and will be continued on your NEWTS Higher levels of potions, transfiguration, charms, herbology, and arithmacy, and defense will be covered, so I encourage you not to take this class lightly. If anyone wishes not to participate, please raise your hand now. Er, no one? Ok, wonderful. This will appear on your schedules as S.C.: Specialty Course. Any questions before I dismiss? Yes, Miss Granger?"  
  
"Who will be teaching the course Professor?"  
  
"Oh, yes, of course. How silly of me not to mention that. Headmaster Dumbledore will be teaching you. He is very happy to be teaching again. It is an honor. Now, back to your dormitories, all of you."  
  
And with that all the students left the room, excited about their new adventure awaiting them at Hogwarts. 


	4. Interesting Classes

Disclaimer-I don't own anything  
  
Chapter 4  
  
Interesting Classes  
  
"I'll give her five more minutes, then I'm going to bed," Ron sighed as he and Harry finished their eleventh game of wizard's chess sitting in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room waiting for Hermione. Only a few people still lingered in the room.  
  
"Oh come on. It isn't that late. Where do you think she is anyway?"  
  
"Maybe-no, you don't think Malfoy did something with her? If that piece of-,"  
  
"Ron! Harry! It's so nice of you to wait up for me," Hermione exclaimed as she climbed through the Fat Lady's portrait.  
  
"What took so-?"  
  
"Ooh! It was wonderful! Professor McGonagall told us that Dumbledore is teaching a new class to only the most highly qualified. We'll be learning higher levels of almost every branch of magic and getting real life experience. There are only four sixth years in there. I am so excited! I can't wait for our first lesson. So, guy, what do you think?"  
  
Harry and Ron looked at each other questioningly both at a loss for words. Then they returned their stares to the beaming girl who was now sitting in a chair across from them. Harry spoke first,  
  
"So where does Malfoy fit into all of this?"  
  
"Well," Hermione began in a matter-of-fact tone, "apparently he was second to me on our OWLS. It's good to know that he isn't spending all of his time thinking of ways to expel us. Oh no," her face was immediately depressed, "if he keeps this up he'll be Head Boy and I'll, well hopefully, be Head Girl and then...oh I'm not going to think of that."  
  
"I don't even see why the Death Eater would want to take the class," Ron began, "especially if it's taught by Dumbledore. Why does he have to be such a git?."  
  
"So you think he's a git just because he actually puts forth effort in his schoolwork?" Hermione inquired.  
  
"What do you mean?! I put forth effort in my work!" he seemed, offended, "And why are you defending him? He's nothing but a lousy-,"  
  
"Yes, I know, Ron, git, and I wasn't defending him."  
  
"So, Hermione," Harry said, "when are you taking this class?"  
  
"Oh, it's going to proceed like any other one would. I'm really excited."  
  
"Like we couldn't tell," Ron mumbled.  
  
"Oh hush. I'm going to bed now. Good night you two."  
  
With that Hermione departed from the group and made her way to the girls dormitories.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
The first morning of classes was a very anxiety-filled one. Everyone was worried about new classes or teachers and wondering what happened to the summer. Hermione, however, was very happy to begin her sixth year at Hogwarts and especially about the new course she would be taking.  
  
Her schedule said the class would be in a classroom near the Transfigurations corridor, but it was still somewhat secluded from the rest of the school. Breakfast in the Great Hall passed quickly and students began trudging to their classes.  
  
Ron, Harry, and Hermione walked together at first but separated when the two boys had to head to the North Tower for Divination.  
  
Hermione walked down the deserted corridor toward the spare classroom where her first S.C. lesson would be held. After a few moments, a small crowd of Ravenclaws turned the corner in front of her and entered the room. Hermione, seeing that she was going to the right place, now walked briskly to the door and was about to enter when she someone slammed into her from the side. She immediately regained her composure and turned to face her attacker, but Malfoy just glared at her and advanced into the filling classroom.  
  
Scowling, she picked up her scattered belongings and took a seat in one of the front tables grateful that Malfoy was in the back.  
  
A few minutes later, when everyone was in the room, a door appeared on the upper right corner of the class. No one seemed to notice besides Hermione, so she stared at it intently. Almost immediately, it opened, and a wrinkled old man with sparkling blue eyes and snowy white hair stepped through it. When the door slammed shut behind him, the class snapped to attention and all talking ceased suddenly. The door disappeared.  
  
For the first time, Hermione noticed the decoration of the room. It was rather large with a domed ceiling line with glass that was so transparent, you seemed to be staring at the azure sky directly, with no interference.  
  
The floor was a reflective marble with golden engravings of ancient runes and foreign incantations that were flowing freely on the floor like it was water. Various telescopes, cauldrons, and unidentifiable knick- knacks littered the room giving it a very professional look.  
  
But the most intriguing part of the room was the four portraits that lined the front wall, as there was no chalkboard; two men and two women.  
  
The first portrait held a very severe-looking man with sandy blonde hair, who was grimacing to the class and wearing green robes. The inscription at the bottom read, "Salazar Slytherin"  
  
The next two women were whispering quietly to each other. Rowena Ravenclaw was the one closer to Slytherin. She was sporting a lovely silk dress with many pearls. Helga Hufflepuff was less pretty and less intelligent-looking, but she looked very kind and friendly with her bouncy gold curls compared to Rowena's auburn locks.  
  
Last, and unsurprisingly the farthest away form Slytherin, was a handsome man by the name of Godric Gryffindor. He had chocolate brown hair and soft, honey-colored eyes. He was smirking in his red and gold robes and looking at the class intellectually.  
  
During this time, Dumbledore was standing at the bottom of the few steps that led to the platform where his desk and other subordinate things were. He was about to speak when,  
  
"Tell me Dumbledore," Slytherin said menacingly, "Why is there only one Slytherin boy in this class?"  
  
"The entire class, including Hermione, turned and looked at that one student sitting stiffly in the very back.  
  
"To leave more room for the Ravenclaws, Salazar," Rowena said.  
  
Helga sighed and spoke, "Oh no, they're going to fight again."  
  
"Oh, you Ravenclaws think you know everything, don't you? You only try to be smart so people won't know that you're just an insecure little brat."  
"How dare you Salazar!"  
  
She stood up and marched angrily into his portrait to glare at him in the face, "Shut up right now, unless you want this whole class to know about your little secret!"  
  
"You wouldn't!"  
  
"Oh you know ver well that I will!"  
  
"Shut up wench!"  
  
"Git!"  
  
Helga was beginning to giggle uncontrollably.  
  
Godric was leaning forward in his chair, straining to see the action; that was until he discovered that he could move from picture to picture. He got up and ran by a startled Helga, through Rowena's empty frame, and into Salazar's where he and Rowena were trading insults so fast that no one could understand them.  
  
"Come on you two," Godric started, pushing the two fighters apart. Slytherin responded by pushing Godric into Rowena's painting, knocking over her chair.  
  
Helga wasn't giggling anymore, and Gryffindor was about to punch Slytherin very hard in the face when,  
  
"Founders! Founders, please!" Dumbledore said sternly, and the four people on the wall froze.  
  
"Please take your seats. I am trying to teach a class."  
  
"My apologies Headmaster," Godric said. He grinned to the class, and walked back to his seat.  
  
Rowena picked up her fallen chair and sat, pouting.  
  
"I'm so sorry Dumbledore," Helga stammered, "I promise I didn't do anything."  
  
"Oh shut up, Hufflepuff," Slytherin spat.  
  
"Enough, Slytherin!"  
  
"Yes, yes Dumbledore," he said and collapsed into his leather armchair.  
  
"Now class," Dumbledore said, turning toward the youths, but he was again interrupted; this time by the bell. The class gathered up their things and walked out the door, talking animatedly while the old man just stood bewildered about the oddities of time. 


	5. Impressions

Disclaimer-I own nothing  
  
Chapter 5  
  
Impressions  
  
Dear Son,  
  
I hope your school year is starting off well. It is very important that you keep up with your studies so that one day, hopefully within the year, you shall follow in my footsteps and become a servant of the Dark Lord. Indeed, he has plans, but of those we will speak face to face. In fact, your first Hogsmeade trip shall take place in a couple of weeks. Meet me in Hog's Head at exactly 3:47 in the afternoon. If you are late or fail to arrive, be sure that I will send someone out looking for you, and I do not believe you will be happy with the result if that should occur. Use your own owl to send a reply and not one of the schools. We don't need Dumbledore's pets knowing where the Dark Lord is hiding, now do we?  
  
Your Father,  
Lucius Malfoy  
  
Draco finished reading the letter that he had received that morning at breakfast and threw in the wastebasket in the corner of the Slytherin common room. He hated his father and wished with all his heart that the man would die the most painful and torturous death known to man. So much for father-son love.  
  
He knew what his path would be if he met with his father. It would be one of death, servitude, and pain. Pain didn't bother his, and he didn't mind Avada Kedavra-ing anyone who annoyed him. But he would never become anyone's servant-especially one of someone who couldn't even slaughter a helpless infant. He was his own person. And he would never become a Deatheater; for himself, and to prove everyone wrong who thought he was an evil, cold-hearted murderer.  
  
He gathered his materials: books, quills, parchment; and walked out of the dark Slytherin common room to his first class of the day, arithmancy. Wonderful, another class with that cursed mudblood and that arrogant head of hers. He entered the classroom and took his usual seat in the back away from Granger, who always say in the front. The lecture began; mindless babbling about ancient number and charts that he had long ago memorized, and soon he found himself dozing into oblivion......  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
"DRACO!" A woman's shrill scream echoed in the dead night air.  
  
"Where are you?" she yelled again.  
  
He wanted so badly to call out to her but couldn't; his lips were frozen together and his arms and legs were locked in place as well. Where was he...and why couldn't he move? Suddenly, a light flared, a voice screamed, and he was looking at his own cold, hard body dead on the forest floor. Something cackled and the a loud pop resounded through the air.  
  
The girl ran up to his body, knelt, and sobbed the sorrowful tears of death and love lost. He saw her feel for a pulse or any fickle sign of life, but she was too late, and she knew that. Draco tried to comfort the mystery girl with kind words but she couldn't hear him. He reached out for her, but his translucent hand passed right through her quivering shoulder.  
  
She felt something very cold pass through her and looked up from the body. She saw no one. Meanwhile, Draco could see the girl's face when she looked up. He stared into her warm amber eyes that were laced with fury, sadness, love, and defeat, but she still couldn't see him. He was a ghost.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
He jerked awake in the middle of class. Thankfully, nobody noticed that he had been asleep. Professor Vector was now announcing the homework, a two and a half foot long essay on Germanic runes and their role in interdimentional transportation. The bell rang and Draco quickly exited the classroom. Someone came up behind him as he headed to double potions,  
  
"Oh, didn't you love Professor Vector's, Malfoy?" Hermione inquired smirking, "Do you mind recalling for me what Dagaz is, or perhaps Thurisaz. Not that you would know, I could hear your snores all the way in the front."  
  
"Shut up mudblood, you don't' know anything," he replied coldly.  
  
"Shut your mouth Malfoy, and don't you ever call her a mudblood again," the approaching Harry yelled. Hermione fell back to join her friends, but Draco just continued walking to Potions.  
  
"I can call her whatever the hell I want to Potter, and I would like to see you stop me."  
  
"Take that back Malfoy," Ron screamed, "or does being a Deatheater mean you can't do anything without consulting your 'Master' first?"  
  
Draco stopped dead in his tracks, and turned to face the trio. His eyes were cold and leaked hatred.  
  
"Don't ever judge me by my father Weasley," he spat, "ever, or else you will be very, very sorry. I'm not a Deatheater nor will I ever be. I'd suggest that you don't speak of matters that don't concern you."  
  
Ron was red and Harry was pale. But Draco was startled when he looked at Hermione. It was er eyes that scared him. He had seen those eyes once before, but then they had been shedding tears of grief for him, not reflecting hate. He turned and continued down the corridor haunted by that pair of beautiful golden-brown eyes.  
  
~*~*~  
  
The rest of Hermione's day was uneventful, but Draco's words stirred her. So he wasn't a Death Eater? She always assumed he would follow in his father's footsteps. Not that she was disappointed, but she was impressed. She also couldn't forget the way he had looked into her eyes. Something had spooked him away. That boy was a complex puzzle she would never be able to figure out. He was supposed to be evil and bloodthirsty, but she couldn't help but think that there was something good behind the mask.  
  
A.N./ Ok I'm trying to hurry it up the best I can. I hope you liked that chapter, a little more...contact. Please review. Any tips or criticisms are welcome. 


	6. The Dreaded Assignment

Hey people, sorry it took so long, but I had a play last week, and I mean all last week, but there are some rather, um, attractive boys there so it wasn't all bad. Not bad at all. And guess what now? I have the flu. Wonderful isn't it. I get to miss 2 days of school, but I have exams next week. Then it's Christmas. Yay! Ok enough of my talking, now, the story. Enjoy!  
  
disclaimer-I don't own "Harry Potter" and I hate writing these things, it's all J.K. Rowling's  
  
Chapter 6  
  
The Dreaded Assignment  
  
The first few weeks of the new year at Hogwarts flew by as students adjusted to their new teachers and classes. Dumbledore's class was getting very interesting. The students were practicing jinxes and counter curses, much like what Hermione had done in her previous year in DA, but more difficult. It proved a slight challenge for the group, but they all quickly mastered the spells. However, Hermione wasn't ready for Dumbledore's next assignment.  
  
"Ok class," he began one morning in mid-October, "we will now be moving on to a project that I think you all will enjoy. The work is to be done in and out of class, but mostly to be done in your spare time.. There is quit a bit of work and research, but I think you can handle it," the class groaned, "Oh nothing too terrible. You will be doing this with a partner, so don't fret. We will do that now, in fact; class choose your partners."  
  
Hermione looked around the classroom. Everyone else was pairing up. The other two Ravenclaw sixth years had gone together and all the seventh years were taken, so that left her with,  
  
"Malfoy," she whispered under her breath.  
  
He was sitting in his usual seat in the back looking at her, having obviously realized his fate as well. They stared at each other for an eternity, both with hatred pouring out of their eyes. Finally, Hermione got up, and slowly walked to sit next to him.  
  
"Through this project, you will learn the importance of teamwork, and how you need not always be independent. Your grade will reflect how well you will survive in the real world, so try your best. Please come forward and retrieve your packet for your group when I call you. Miss Snow,"  
  
A tall girl went forward and Dumbledore handed her a thick brown envelope.  
  
"Now, Mr. Selphoner, and Mr. GilFillin, Miss Narcler," he continued called one person of each partnership until he came to the last and most severe-looking envelope when Hermione went up to claim it, "Class you have the res of the class to look over your assignments. I trust that I have provided for you all necessary instructions. Good luck."  
  
Draco grabbed the envelope from her as soon as she sat down and opened it. He had only scanned the first page when Hermione grabbed it back from him.  
  
"If we have to work together we might as well be civil," she hissed, "I'm not going to have some mindless git ruining my grade."  
  
"Is that all you ever thing about, wench? Your grades. Have you no social life? Well, I can understand that. Why Potter and Weasley enjoy your company astounds me. But maybe they just feel sorry for you."  
  
"Shut up, Malfoy, and let's get this over with. The sooner we start, the sooner we finish, and the sooner I can get away from your ugly face."  
  
"You should look in a mirror sometime mudblood before you call me ugly, but I agree, we should get started." He grabbed the paper back from her and began reading.  
  
"Ok," he began after finishing, "it looks like we have to open a shop. What the heck is this crap! There is no way I'm doing this. I'm never going to become a-a shopkeeper!"  
  
"Let me see it!" Hermione again grabbed the paper and read:  
  
Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy,  
  
You two will be opening a store/business in Hogsmeade. You will need to decide the location, product and name of the store. Act as if this is a real business. Check on finances and loans, and anything else you can think of. I have enclosed for you a number of people that you can talk to to receive information on running a business, and a few samples to show what I want done.  
  
This is to be turned in and presented to the class before the Christmas holidays. Run the shop for a year and record your findings. In a final statement, together write an essay on what you learned during this project. Enjoy!  
  
"Wow!" Hermione exclaimed as she finished, "this is going to be so  
much fun! Oh, what's wrong now. Why do you always have to take the  
fun out of everything?"  
  
"Granger, do you know how long this is going to take us, and how much free time I am going to loose? Months!"  
  
"But if we start now and work a little on it everyday then we should be done by the beginning of December."  
  
"But how are we going to work  
on it?"  
  
"I haven't thought of that."  
  
"Wow, the mystical Granger doesn't know something. Well, I don't want it to be in public or at anytime we could be seen together."  
  
"Oh thanks, Malfoy. Like I want to be seen with your ferret-face either."  
  
"Take that back Mudblood!" he said a little too loudly causing the whole class to look in their direction, "you should be honored to be seen with me," he continued quietly, "so unless you want to do this project alone, I suggest you watch your tone."  
  
The bell rang, and the class emptied, but the Hermione and Draco continued their bickering until Dumbledore urged them out.  
  
That evening at dinner, Draco received an owl.  
  
Meet me in the empty classroom on the second floor by the washrooms at 9. I want to get this over with.  
  
He crumbled the parchment and threw it in his bag. Who did she think she was telling him what to do? But regardless, at 8:45 he found himself in that classroom waiting for Granger to show up, which she did a few short minutes later.  
  
Hermione sat and took several books out of her bag. She opened them to the marked pages and laid them on the table in front of her and Malfoy.  
  
"What are these?" he asked stupidly.  
  
"Books. I found them in the library. They are all about small businesses, loans, and marketing. I thought they would help," she added after seeing his disgusted face.  
  
"Shouldn't we decide on what kind of shop we are going to create first, before we do any of this crap?" he asked.  
  
"Oh my goodness, you're actually thinking."  
"Lay off the comments Granger, I'm not in the mood."  
  
"I agree, let's make a truce."  
  
"What kind of truce," he asked eyeing her suspiciously.  
  
"That we are decent to each other just inside these walls. And we don't call each other names or make fun of each other."  
  
Draco thought about this for a moment, contemplating the pros and cons and finally agreed.  
  
"But only in this room," he said, "now let's start working. I think we should run a Quidditch shop."  
  
"No, no, no," Hermione interrupted, "how about a newsstand?"  
  
"Potions supplies."  
  
"Dress robes."  
  
"A pub."  
  
"A tea shop."  
  
"This isn't getting us anywhere."  
  
"It isn't my fault you won't agree on anything."  
  
"Me?"  
  
"What's something we both like?" Hermione inquired.  
  
"We could run a bookshop."  
  
"Yes that's perfect!" she exclaimed happily almost forgetting who she was with.  
  
"Good, can I leave now? I'm tired and don't feel like spending anymore time here."  
  
"Fine leave, but the day after tomorrow, same time, same place."  
  
"Whatever, night," he said and left without hesitation.  
  
Weird, she thought as she made her way back to the Gryffindor common room, that he could be horrible one minute and decent the next.  
  
AN/ Hope you like it, please review. I can't wait to get the next chappie up, I think you'll like it. 


	7. Mysteries

Disclaimer-I don't own anything  
  
Chapter 7  
  
Mysteries  
  
Hermione continued their late night meetings together as their project progressed. Though they actually seemed to be accomplishing something each time, each rendezvous always ended with the same fight: Draco criticizing Hermione for being a stupid know-it-all and Hermione lashing back at him for his arrogance and hostility. Little did they know that things were gradually changing between them with this new alliance. Draco began using the term 'mudblood' less and less often, as Hermione could be heard saying 'Malfoy' instead of the ominous 'Malfoy'. The wall of indifference was breaking.  
  
"Draco! Will you please wake up and pay attention? I am trying to work on our group project, but I can't do that without the rest of my group," Hermione said one late night.  
  
"Why do they call it 'groups' anyway? There are only two of us," Draco said groggily as he lifted his head off the table.  
  
"Shut up and help me. We're almost done with Part 1; we just need a name. I was thinking 'Pages a'Plenty'."  
  
"Boring."  
  
"Well then, you think of something if you're so smart."  
  
"How about the 'My Head is Killing Me and Hermione's Nagging isn't Helping Shop'?"  
  
She glared at him.  
  
"Fine, fine. Why not, uh 'Just Around the Corner'? It sounds...homey."  
  
"Hm," she crinkled her brow in contemplation, "I like it. We're gonna use it."  
  
"Good, can I leave now. I feel like I'm about to pass out from exhaustion and annoyance."  
  
"Yes, leave," she said with a wave of her hand. He got up from his seat and before he reached the door, she called out quietly,  
  
"Good night."  
  
She swore she heard him respond with a 'night' before he closed the door behind him, but she wasn't sure.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
The next morning at breakfast in the Great Hall, Harry and Ron were complaining about everything and everyone as usual. Hermione just sat silently and slowly ate her oatmeal, but her ears perked up when Draco was mentioned in the bickering.  
  
"He thinks he owns the school just because his father is, well was, on the board, and their pureblood. He's such a show-off weasel-faced git. I-."  
  
"He's really not that bad when you get to know him," Hermione interrupted.  
  
"What!" they yelled together.  
  
"I said that he-,"  
  
"I know what you said, but, Hermione are you feeling O.K.?" Ron reached across the table and clumsily felt her forehead.  
  
"I'm fine Ron."  
  
"Then why are you sticking up for Malfoy."  
  
"I'm simply stating the truth."  
  
"But how can you do that after all he's done," Harry intervened..  
  
"Look, when we discovered that we had to do that project together we both decided to put aside our differences and make peace. He only tries to be showy so he can be good enough for his father who measures him against unruly standards."  
  
"Are you his psychiamist?"  
  
"No Ron, and the word is psychiatrist. I'm just reading between the lines. He's different."  
  
"I don't believe you," Harry stated.  
  
"Maybe he put her under the Imperius Curse," Ron said to Harry who replied, "Possibly."  
  
"You guys! I am perfectly fine you two are just too narrow-minded to understand!" She got up from her unfinished breakfast and left, most likely going to the library.  
  
"Do you think we made her angry?" Ron asked his friend quietly.  
  
"Nah, I guess it's a girl thing."  
  
"Yah."  
  
Hermione sat at a secluded table in the back corner of the library to try to sort out her thoughts. Why was she defending Malfoy? Those words had just seemed to come out naturally. Was she getting soft with him and feeling sorry for him? Truly, she enjoyed their meetings. They were exciting and full of surprises, just like Draco. He was a work of art. In a way, she viewed him as a challenge or a problem that she had to solve. But all in all he was a person, one with a scary past and future and life already foretold to him. He, of course, never told her any of this, but she could read it in those cold grey eyes of his. The eyes that looked like stone at times, yet may also seem soft as a feather too. He was a mystery.  
  
That night when they met, she began looking at him differently, more so than before, and when she looking into his eyes, she saw to window to his soul. But when she gazed upon him, he just ignored her.  
  
Why was Granger looking at me like that? Draco thought as he walked into the classroom. It was as if she knew how he saw those amber eyes of hers in his dreams every night and he couldn't for the life of him figure out why. She was haunting him, and being constantly around her wasn't doing any good.  
  
The night passed in silence, both of them doing individual work, and when it came time to part they said good-bye and went their separate ways.  
  
Draco had received another letter from his father that evening. It told furthered him on their meeting that was coming up in a few days. To a secluded flat he must go located on the outskirts of Hosmeade. There, Lucius would be awaiting him and the meeting would commence. Draco knew that he wouldn't be staying at Hogsmeade, they would definitely travel to someplace much more private, where no one would know what you were up to.  
  
The morning of the first Hogsmeade dawned on Draco all too soon. He dressing and ate a light breakfast as usual. Then he began his walk down to the village, hoping to buy a few things before the meeting. The sky was dark for it was only morning but the clouds churned overhead unforgivingly.  
  
When it was time, he walked up to the designated place and knocked on the door. After a few silent moments, it opened. 


	8. Free Spirit

Disclaimer- I own nothing. But I wish I did and I plan to someday but I don't know what.  
  
Gazy-this chap is for you. Thanks so much, you make me want to update. I hope it's as error-free, and descriptive, and genuine as ever. On with the show! Enjoy!  
  
Chapter 8  
  
Free Spirit  
  
"Good evening, son," Lucius Malfoy spoke as he opened the old, decomposing door to welcome his only son into the dark flat. Draco looked inside and saw a narrow hallway lit by two candelabras decorating the walls and casting ominous shadows upon the low, wooden ceiling. He stepped in.  
  
"Follow me," the man said. He turned and stalked to the door located to the right of the threshold. It opened into another dimly lit room which Draco now entered. The room was sparsely furnished with only a table in the center and a dusty recliner in front of the ash-covered fireplace. Upon the table was a book so ancient the front title could no longer be perused. Lucius looked at his wristwatch and muttered something incomprehensible to himself.  
  
"Alright son, now touch the book," Draco reached forward expecting the unexpected, Lucius did the same, "we should be leaving in five...four...three...two..." but Draco never heard him count "one". He was jerked forward by his navel and was surrounded by swarms of colors and objects. The swirling stopped, and Draco found himself in a graveyard with his father standing next to him who dropped the ragged book.  
  
There were other people there lingering amongst the tombstones and stone statues of cherubs and other mystical figures. Most of them were boys around Draco's age with their fathers of whom Draco recognized from Lucius' 'secret' get-togethers. Death Eaters, they were. A small crowd of childless followers gathered around someone resting in a leather chair which seemed highly out of place in the dreary setting.  
  
"Now," a raspy voice spoke, "everyone is here. We may begin."  
  
The group encircling the inhabitant of the chair dispersed as the person spoke. Black cloaks no longer blocked Draco's vision of the man, and he could gaze without interference. The figure was small and slight. It's hood and large black robes hid the face and body, but soon long, pale fingers escaped the dark folds and rose, pulling away the mask which revealed it's bald and wrinkled head. The creature had no lips and only a stub of a nose, but what really stuck out were the slits in the head which seemed to glow with crimson light. Malfoy, nemesis and villain of Hogwarts, had finally come face to face with the greatest enemy of all time, Lord Voldermort.  
  
He stood up shakily with receding posture; everyone, kids and all, bowed, holding out their right arms, wrist up. Draco had no idea what was going on, so he followed suit until the small crowd rose with heads still bowed.  
  
Voldermort spoke, "I don't know if it is clear why I have gathered you and your offspring to this place, but I will explain myself," he cleared his throat as everyone except the Malfoy boy listened carefully and spoke slowly, "The spell which restored my life did so with a price. It gave me not eternal life or immortality. It only gave me a temporary body with limited and waning strength and ability. An alternate spell to grant my real life back was to be discovered with time, but nothing has been found and I fear nothing will be. After thinking very thoroughly, I have come to one conclusion."  
  
He paused to look upon every face. People were caught in his gaze, eagerly awaiting his next words.  
  
"I will choose an heir, a successor, from the group of children you have brought to me. He, or she, shall be taught all of my secrets, and will take up the name "Voldermort" when I have passed. Then the Chosen will continue my plans for a pure world, and shall become ruler for eternity. A big job I know, that is why I chose the contestants with extreme caution and thoughtfulness. You, my children, are among the best and I know none of you will let me down, but there can only be one Voldermort. I will choose today, in this very spot, so individually come forward and present yourselves to me," he reached out one pale finger and pointed to a tall, muscular lad to Draco's right, "you first."  
  
The boy proceeded forward and came within three feet of the Dark Lord. Immediately an acid green dome of energy surrounded the two. No one could clearly see what was going on much less hear anything. After a few short minutes which seemed like a lifetime, the boy emerged rather pale and rubbing his head painfully. Another candidate went forward and the same dome appeared. This person also left looking ill.  
  
Draco was the last out of thirteen to be tested. He secretly clutched his wand inside his robes and walked to Voldermort emanating pride and confidence. When he reached the place of examination the barrier was formed, crackling and hissing with exuberance and energy. It created a swirling wind which blew Draco's hair out of place and disarranged his clothing. Voldermort was sitting in his "throne" before him and staring at him, reading his eyes. The man stood and before Draco could react, his wand was drawn,  
  
"Legilimens!"  
  
Draco's mind swarmed with memories, some of which were dark and frightening, but he knew of this trick. Lucius had taught him well enough in theory to resist the attack. He closed his eyes and blanked his mind; the memories faded. He envisioned a solid brick wall around his thought that even Voldermort could not breach. Slowly, the world came back into focus, and the Dark Lord again stood before him looking proud.  
  
"You are good my apprentice, I was beginning to think my fate was doomed with the others' extreme failures. Have you been taught well in Occlumency?"  
  
"Not formally," Draco replied fearlessly. Inside he was shaking, but his eyes remained hard and cold.  
  
"Ahh, and now for one last test. I am going to ask you a question, and I want an honest answer. You will be killed if you lie."  
  
Draco didn't answer.  
  
"Alright. Do you want to be my heir?"  
  
"No."  
  
"No?"  
  
"I want nothing to do with your insidious plot much less create it. True, a world without Mudbloods and Muggles would be paradise, but I need not kill millions to achieve happiness. I don't wish to be anyone's slave, bow to anyone, or refer to them as 'Lord'. I look out for myself and no one else. Nothing will tie me down; I am a free spirit and will do whatever I like."  
  
The old man started at him silently. After a while he spoke with true honesty,  
  
"I admire your pride. It is a quality needed to continue my path as is your assurance of yourself. Some call it arrogance, but it is definitely something much more. You are the exactly material I have been searching for," he placed his hands ceremonially on Draco's shoulders," you will be the next Lord Voldermort!"  
  
Only when the Death Eaters cheered loudly did Draco realized the green dome had evaporated allowing the outside world to see present occurrences. He looked into Voldermort's eyes and saw bitter anger and vengeance. Like shattered glass, a voice spoke in his head.  
  
You will succeed me whether you want to or not. Care not for your pride now, for from this point to my death you are my servant, my slave, my student. After this you will return to the disgraced Hogwarts and speak not a word to anyone. During holiday vacation, your training shall begin; no ifs or buts. My word is now law.  
  
The words halted and Draco broke eye contact and returned his focus to the normal world. His father approached and embraced him, overcome with confidence for his son. When he let him go, the son turned to face the Lord, but he had disappeared without a trace. He had no doubt that Voldermort would try to contact him again before there training, and he would be ready. He may be forced to train, but he would never take the name. To kill in cold blood and be in control of everything was not his style. He was a free spirit. 


	9. Announcements and Drawbacks

Disclaimer-I don't own anything  
  
gazy - I know that Voldermort and Lucius are, well, evil, but wouldn't you be nice if you were dying and needed to find a replacement? Draco could possibly be even more rebellious if they were hostile toward him so it's just a way to establish a feeling of, dare I say, comfort and mentor-ship. And I think Lucius is kinda happy and proud of Draco since he is going to become the next Dark Lord. Being in good dibs with the Master can give you possible benefits in the future. Just my opinion and what my scrawny brain came up with. And I'm a Christmas person, I got some pretty nifty stuff. You?  
  
Chapter 9  
  
Announcements and Drawbacks  
  
When Draco returned to Hogwarts the following evening, everything was different. The poor lad felt as if everyone was staring at his newly branded arm. He, of course, had received the Dark Mark, as all the other Death Eaters had when they joined the force, but it felt strangely odd walking around with a unremovable tattoo that could mean his death if he showed it to the wrong person. He became slightly paranoid as whispers spread. Though weren't about our favorite Malfoy, he didn't know that and wouldn't believe anyone who told him otherwise.  
  
People were, for a fact, were talking about the upcoming holiday, Halloween. The rumors that were going around were about a ball to be held that evening by the Headmaster. Two weeks away, it was, and Dumbledore should be announcing the festivities soon, if they should exist.  
  
It turned out, that they did, in fact. That Monday, two days after Draco's rendezvous with Voldermort, Dumbledore announced it at breakfast. He stood, and raised his arms. A hush came over the rambunctious students as if all of their mouths were zipped together at the same time. You could hear the late-seasoned crickets groaning outside as the students anxiously locked their eyes on the headmaster.  
  
"Students," he started quietly, "I understand there have been rumors spreading around about a ball this Halloween. There have been many versions, none of them exactly true. But I do have the pleasure of announcing Hogwarts' first Halloween Ball in over twenty years."  
The students shouted with excitement.  
  
"Wait, wait, let me finish please," the silence once more took over, "This ball includes dinner at 8 o'clock an dancing until midnight, however, anyone under fourth year must retire at ten, unless, of course, you are in the company of one of the elder students. Please, feel free to wear costumes, but I do ask for appropriateness. You may return to your meals."  
  
The crowd at once became alive with talk of the ball, although some of the first, second, and third years looked quite depressed. None of this amused Hermione though, as she sat eating across from her two best friends. The two adolescent boys viewed the evening as a second chance, and were determined to find good dates compared to the Yule Ball almost two years ago.  
  
Hermione usually didn't find interest in such petty events. Besides, she really needed to work on her project with Malfoy. The Hogsmeade weekend had set them behind schedule, so she and he really needed to get a move on things.  
  
That afternoon, in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor Stults was introducing the concept of more effective counter charms and jinxes. Her first example was the Patronus Charm.  
  
"Ok class," the woman begun, "the first Patronus was conjured by a French man by the name of Fernando DeBerough in, can anyone tell me the date?"  
  
Hermione raised her hand.  
  
"Yes, Miss Granger?"  
  
"1293," she said, happy that she, once again, knew the answer.  
  
"Very good, ten points for Gryffindor. I'll give you ten more if you tell me what he produced."  
  
Hermione thought for a second then said, sure of herself, "It was a bear."  
  
"Very good. Every person's Patronus appears as something different. Yours could be a lion, a wolf..."  
  
Professor Stults's smooth voice faded in Hermione's mind as her mind began to wander. Most of the Gryffindors became bored as well, learning most of this already in D.A. last year. The rest of the day promised boring classes to the girl, so she began looking forward to her meeting with Malfoy, which always promised something spontaneous and exciting.  
  
That evening, she arrived in the designated classroom five minute before nine. Time passed and soon it was nine o' clock, then 9:05, and 9:15. There was no sign of Malfoy.  
  
Hermione began to pick up her things to leave, but Draco did appear, 20 minutes late. He was pale and breathless and overall looked quite ill. He walked briskly into the room and took a seat across from Hermione, oblivious to her presence until she spoke, "Draco, my God are you alright?"  
  
He raised his head sharply took look at her. His grey eyes were raw with emotion, but immediately resumed their stone-like nature.  
  
"It's nothing of your business, Mudblood, so why don't you keep your big nose and bushy hair out of that which doesn't concern you!"  
  
Surprised by his reaction, Hermione responded with the first thing that came to her mind.  
  
"Well, if you are going to have that attitude, Malfoy, you can do the rest of this project by yourself!" she said with fury and got up to leave.  
  
"No!" he yelled with such authority Hermione was almost frightened, "You will sit your ass back in that chair and do your share of the work!" When she didn't move, he added, "Now Mudblood!"  
  
She sat in her chair, "What has gotten into you, Draco? I thought we were past all this nonsense," she said icily.  
  
He looked at her for a moment, his glacier eyes slowly melting their ice, and stormed out of the room mumbling an almost inaudible "Sorry", leaving a very confused and teary-eyed girl behind.  
  
His odd behavior continued throughout the week, but they still managed to get some work done amidst the constant battles.  
  
As if the inner workings of Draco Malfoy weren't enough to ruin Hermione's week, she had been forced to go to the ball with Ron as her date. The day after Dumbledore's announcement, Ginny had informed her that her brother might ask her for an assured "Yes" as the answer. Hermione contemplated turning her best friend down, but when the moment came she chickened out and agreed. Of course now, she had to find a costume, and no ideas had come to her as of yet.  
  
"Ginny have you come up with any ideas?" she asked her friend one evening in the common room. The fifth year was going with Harry, and she couldn't be happier.  
  
"No, but we can look at Hogsmeade this weekend. I like fairies, though. Maybe a little dress with some wings would do the trick. Oooh! And a pretty wand."  
  
"You already have a wand, Ginny," Hermione pointed out indifferently.  
  
"So, I could use a new one anyway. Have you thought about it anything?"  
  
"Maybe I could be a witch."  
  
Ginny sighed, "No, you are a witch for goodness' sake. Besides, you have to be something mischievous, sexy-."  
  
"I don't do sexy," Hermione interrupted.  
  
"Oh come on, that's what Halloween's all about. Becoming something you aren't. Unleashing the woman within."  
  
"Ginny?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"You're scaring me."  
  
"Fine, but you'll break my brother's heart," Ginny said quietly and looked away from her friend.  
  
"What? Because I don't want to dress up for something I didn't even want to go to in the first place?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
"You Weasleys amaze me."  
  
"Thank you, it's my pleasure."  
  
Author's Note: So there's going to be a ball, hmm. Interesting. There may even be a little romance in the next chapter, so prepare. I'm going to try to get in another chapter before school starts, and then begin a schedule. I think that Friday will be the day for this and "Reunion" which I encourage you to read if you like L.J. Smith. Until next time.... 


	10. Let the Fun Begin

Disclaimer: I own nothing  
  
Chapter 10  
  
Let the Fun Begin  
  
Soon, the evening of the ball came, and students throughout the castle were spending hours preparing for this one special night. Some dressed as famous figures from past and present. Others were monsters or mythical creatures. Even an obsessed fan painted his hair black, drew a lightening bolt scar on his forehead, and got round glasses to impersonate Harry Potter.  
  
Draco Malfoy dressed as none of these things, however ((AN-like he would ever try to be Harry)). He adorned himself in plain black robes, without the Slytherin seal. He didn't fix his hair, so it fell in silver layers over his neck and into his eyes. And for the grand finale, he placed upon his head a black top hat to guarantee him a mysterious look.  
  
Feeling satisfied with his appearance, he left his room in the dungeons and entered, then left, the common room, but not without his leech. Pansy Parkinson wore a quite revealing red dress that drew almost every boy's eyes to her most generous figure and womanly attributes; almost every boy's.  
  
"Aren't you going to ask who I am?" she asked her date with false sweetness.  
  
"No, and I don't care either."  
  
"I am your mistress, Count Dracula," she said seductively and looped her arm through his.  
  
"I am not Dracula, girl, and you are definitely not my mistress."  
  
"Aww, but you would make such a cute vampire."  
  
"Shut up."  
  
She pouted, but was silent. They reached the crowd of students at the entry to the Great Hall. At precisely eight o' clock, the doors opened. The House tables had been removed. In their place were smaller round tables seating about six. Decorations were everywhere. Live bats flew above their heads and skeletons greeted them as they entered. The couple sat and were soon joined by Crabbe, Goyle, and their dates. Draco was surprised they had found girls to go with them. The poor souls were probably threatened.  
  
When everyone had been seated comfortably, Dumbledore made a quick speech, then let them enjoy the food which began appearing in the center of each small table. Draco quickly grabbed his share before the two brutes plunged into the mini feast.  
  
After finishing his chicken, he became bored with his company and let his eyes wander. They soon rested upon Hermione Granger who looked...well...beautiful to be brutally honest. Her normally bushy hair had been straightened and fell down her back in calm, graceful waves. Two bunches of hair, one at each temple, had been braided and merged together in the rear, taming the mane. Her dress was plain. The silver-white material fit her modestly, leaving most to the imagination and was gathered on her left hip in a fashion that greatly resembled a Greek toga. To his disappointment, she seemed to be engaged in an interesting topic with the Weasley, her date.  
  
Everyone quickly finished the lavish meals and were eager to begin dancing. The tables were cleared and music started, though its source was unknown. Steady couples were the first to approach the floor, and to Draco's dismay, Pansy dragged him to the floor and wrapped herself around him. Too tired to protest, he let her and placed his hands lightly on her swaying hips, though the music was fast and lively.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Oh, come on Hermione, please dance with me," Ron begged again.  
  
"But I don't want to. I came didn't I? That should be enough," she teased.  
  
"Just dance with the boy!" Ginny interrupted as she walked onto the floor with Harry.  
  
"Oh, fine. Come on, Ronald," she held out her hand to him, and he took it warmly. They walked together and he put one hand on her hip, and kept his other hand in hers. She placed her remaining arm upon the shoulder of Ron's Quidditch costume, and the couple began to waltz with the music.  
  
Everything seemed to be perfect: perfect costume-which Hermione felt very proud of having come up with it at the last minute-, perfect date, perfect ball. But something was...amiss. The air didn't feel right to the girl as she danced in her friend's arms. The music and evening continued, regardless.  
  
It wasn't until almost eleven that Hermione first noticed Draco in the clinging embrace of the pug-faced Pansy Parkinson who looked like an experienced prostitute. But Draco, however, simply took her breath away. He wore all black which accented his light skin and hair. Strands of his hair fell into his eyes in a way they made Hermione want to push them back. As if noticing her stare, he looked her way. Their eyes were locked for a moment before they both broke away with a blush.  
  
Then it happened.  
  
The clock struck eleven, and there was a disturbance that drew everyone's attention. Pansy was screaming to her companion who was bent over a few feet away, clutching his forearm, seething with pain. Seeing the attention he was getting, he fled the crowd. Pansy made to run after her date, but some guy saw his chance and drew her into a dance.  
  
Hermione was astonishingly curious, interested, and worried. She feigned sickness to Ron and quickly walked out of the recovering Hall. Once in the corridor, she ran in desperate search for Draco, thought she didn't know exactly why. This seemed natural. After many futile searches, she looked in the last place she thought he would be: the classroom where they met. Sure enough, he was there.  
  
His right sleeve was drawn up to the elbow, and she could plainly see the source of his pain: the Dark Mark. It was glowing the red of heated metal and didn't look too appealing. But what amazed her was that he...was a-a Death Eater! And after she was beginning to trust him.  
  
She must have made a noise or something because he suddenly looked her way, his eyes wide as a deer's. Nobody moved.  
  
"What the hell are you doing in here!" he suddenly yelled putting his arm behind his back.  
  
"I have as much a right to be in here as you, Death Eater!" she screamed back.  
  
"What?! You think I'm a- no, Hermione I-."  
  
"Then why are you hiding your arm. Prove it to me!"  
  
"It isn't what it seems!"  
  
"Is that so, because that, to me, looked like a Dark Mark and only Death Eaters have those."  
  
He held out his arm to her as she approached him, "I am not a Death Eater. I have no wish to become a servant of the darkness, and follow a man who wants to change the world for the worse. I don't want to kill regardless of what you think. And I refuse to be a slave."  
  
She stared at him unbelievingly. Did he just say what she think he said?  
"Then why do you have the Mark?" she finally stuttered out. Dare she believe his words?  
  
"Because-because I am-."  
  
"Yes?" she asked quietly.  
  
He didn't speak.  
  
"What, Draco?"  
  
"His heir alright!"  
  
"What!"  
  
"Voldermort is dying. He wants me to take his place when he passes."  
  
"I can't believe you."  
  
"Well believe it or not, but I am going to be the next one you prissy good-doers fight!"  
  
"I won't let you. We can tell someone. Dumbledore will-."  
  
"No, Hermione," that was the first time he ever said her name aloud, "you don't understand. He's watching me constantly! I talk to him every night in the fire in the common room. He sends instructions everyday! Not to mention his skills in Legilimency! The only reason I am telling is because they are raiding a town in France. He's preoccupied. That is why it burns," he said holding out his marked arm, "He's calling them. Calling them to kill! To burn! To destroy! Hermione he-," but Draco couldn't finish. He started shaking uncontrollably. Rage overcame him. He put his head in his hands as tears came to his eyes. His hat fell to the floor.  
  
Not knowing what to do Hermione reacted instinctively and wrapped her arms around his neck and attempted to sooth the horror-struck boy. She ran her hands through his silky hair and rubbed his back, as her mother had done to her when she was frightened. He put his head on her shoulder and hung on to her desperately, all past experiences aside. Breathing in her scent and welcoming her warmth, he slowly came back to reality.  
  
"What are you supposed to be?" he inquired as to her costume and stood again to his full height.  
  
"I'm Athena, goddess of wisdom. I though it suitable."  
  
"It fits you."  
  
Silence.  
  
Neither could explain what happened next. But their lips were drawn together by an invisible force. Hermione felt Draco's lips on hers, and she felt nothing but bliss. The feeling was mutual. They stayed like that for a moment longer in a passionate embrace, but she wanted it to last forever, before reality struck.  
  
Hermione pulled away, and looked into Draco's confused grey eyes before bolting into the dark corridor of Hogwarts.  
  
Author's Note: I promised romance didn't I? Well how did you like it. Please read and review. 


	11. Never Again

Disclaimer-I own nothing  
  
Author's Note- I'm submitting this early because I'm going to the Ozarks this weekend and I obviously won't be near my computer. And my notes in the story are in double parenthesis. Enjoy!  
  
Chapter 11  
  
Never Again  
  
((this picks up exactly where it left off))  
  
"Chudley Cannons!" Hermione cried exasperately and climbed through the open portrait into the empty Gryffindor common room.  
  
"No! How could I do something so...so.." She collapsed on the floor and sobbed. Moments later she heard someone else say the password outside her hideout, and she sprinted toward her room not wanting to be seen, but she was too slow.  
  
"Hermione wait!" Ron called after her. She kept on running. He ran to her as she was about to climb the stairwell to the girl's dorms. He firmly grasped her shoulders and spun her around to face him. He was shocked at the girl before him.  
  
Hermione had hot tears running down her flushed cheeks, and she couldn't stop choking on her sobs. Her hair was in disarrayed and her dress was wrinkled. She was trying to break free of his hold but to no avail.  
  
"Stop it!" he yelled fiercely, "What's wrong with you Hermi?" he added a little more softly.  
  
"Ron let me go," she sobbed, "Please!"  
  
"What is with you tonight? First you just leave the dance, and then you get angry with me for trying to comfort you! I've been looking for you everywhere. I was so worried!"  
  
She stopped struggling, "I'm sorry, Ron, but I can't tell you. Please, please understand."  
  
She looked up at him with her warm brown eyes, fawn's eyes, begging for escape. The tears were still coming, but less frequent now. Ron couldn't resist. He raised a finger to her soft cheek and wiped away a stray tear.  
  
This is my chance, he thought.  
  
Drawn by his own desires, Ron bent to kiss Hermione softly on the lips. Immediately upon contact, he could feel her warmth spread through him. But it wasn't long before she hit him hard on the cheek.  
  
"How dare you!" she screamed in fury.  
  
"I was trying to help you!" He yelled back surprised. The slumbering students of Gryffindor were beginning to wake at the noise, and a small crowd had appeared.  
  
"By taking advantage of me!? Ron, I thought I knew you better! I don't-."  
  
"Look, I'm sorry, but I didn't know what to do. You weren't saying anything to help. Can you blame me?!"  
  
"Yes! We're just friends, Ron. Friends didn't go around kissing each other the last time I checked."  
  
"Well what if I want to be more than friends? Will that ever happen?"  
  
"Ron-I," she choked, and turned around in a flash of light and dashed up the stairs to the comfort of her room. There she sank into her warms sheets and let all the emotions out.  
  
Hermione woke up a little before noon the next day and made a resolution to herself.  
  
"I'm going to pretend like nothing happened," she told herself quietly. Luckily, today was Saturday, so she wouldn't have to face Draco much, but evading Ron was near impossible.  
  
She dressed, and walked slowly to the Great Hall where her two friends probably were. They were. Harry and Ron seemed to be engaged in a very interesting conversation. Hermione heard her name mentioned as she approached them silently, but paid no attention.  
  
Nothing happened! she said to herself before sitting down. The conversation stopped immediately.  
  
"Hey guys," she said weakly.  
  
"Um..hi," they both stuttered.  
  
She began to eat in silence.  
  
"Hermione?" Harry said breaking the silence.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
He reached inside his robes, and pulled something out, "Here this came for you at breakfast, but you weren't here." he handed her the letter.  
  
"Thank you, Harry," she opened it so they couldn't see what was written, and read it to herself.  
  
Hermione, we need to talk. Meet me in the library at twelve in the afternoon.  
  
She knew who it was from: Draco. Of course, who else would want to meet her in the library. She glanced at her watch-five minutes after noon.  
  
"I sorry, but I have to go. I'll see you."  
  
She got up from her meal and quickly walked to the library. Once there, she couldn't find Draco anywhere. She eventually found him in one of the back rows in the corner. He looked nervous.  
  
"Draco."  
  
"Hermione! You're here. Look I'm really sorry about-."  
  
"You shouldn't be. I am to blame."  
  
"Yah, well, either way I just want to say that it should never happen again! Do you agree?"  
  
"Yes, but-."  
  
"And I need you to swear never to repeat what I told you."  
  
"You don't need to tell me. I won't tell; your life depends on it."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"Your welcome, Draco."  
  
After a few long minutes of silence Draco spoke, "Well, I should leave now."  
  
"Yes, me too."  
  
"Good-bye, Granger."  
  
He left.  
  
Author's Note-so what did you think? Did you enjoy Ron's moment of confession? Like normally, review. The more reviews, the faster I update. Until next time... 


	12. The Message

Disclaimer- I own nothing  
  
Author's note: Sorry it took so long. I have had computer problems. But it's all good now....I hope.  
  
Gazy - Ahhhhh! I'm so(*sob) sorry(*sob-sob)! Please don't hurt me!  
  
Chapter 12  
  
A Message  
  
Life for the next few days between Draco, Hermione, and even Ron continued as if nothing had ever happened. The project between Draco and Hermione was processing smoothly with only one month left to complete. They had checked on every financial key possible to start the store and only had to run the imaginary 'Just Around the Corner' for a year, which was already proving quite difficult for the argument-prone teens.  
  
"How the hell am I supposed to know how many books we're gonna sell in a month!? It isn't even a real store!" Draco yelled as he slammed a heavy book on the worn oak table to emphasize his point.  
  
"I thought you did research on that," Hermione said calmly.  
  
"They don't have books on average yearly sales for every damn bookstore!  
  
"But you said you—."  
  
"No I didn't!"  
  
"Fine!" she stood to yell back in his face, "If you feel like being difficult, I'll find it. You, meanwhile, can calculate the cost of utilities per month!"  
  
"Well, it sure will be a lot easier than discovering the impossible!"  
  
"You know, Dumbledore said we could talk to actual store owners," Hermione replied, frustrated and sat in her chair crossing her arm over her chest.  
  
"You're the people person, so go talk to them."  
  
"I will."  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
The next evening Hermione found herself walking through the pouring rain to Hogsmeade muttering wildly about how much she hated that git Malfoy.  
  
"That lazy-ass couldn't research anything to save his life," Hermione said and gasped as another gust of icy wind penetrated her wool cape, "He'd better appreciate this."  
  
A while after (too long in Hermione's opinion) she arrived to the Village, and searched for the bookshop, 'Agnes and Roy' to talk to Agnes Kern, the associate owner. She soon found it and pushed open the stained glass door to be welcomed by tinkling bells and a wave of warmth from the crackling hearth. There didn't seem to be anyone there, so Hermione called for assistance,  
  
"Hello? Is any here? I'm Hermione Granger, and I need to talk to a 'Miss Kern' about a school project I'm doing."  
  
No one answered.  
  
Hermione was about to give up when a voice spoke from behind her.  
  
"Hello there, child."  
  
Hermione shrieked and turned to look at her attacker.  
  
"I'm so sorry to frighten you, but I do believe I am the one you are looking for," the woman said kindly.  
  
"Oh, yes well, you surprised me, that's all," Hermione said as she recovered herself.  
  
The woman was very old. Her skin was milky pale but disgraced with folds and folds of wrinkles, and her figure was small and hunched, but her sharp violet eyes melted away any tell-tale sign of age that adorned her fragile body.  
  
"You needed something," the crone asked politely.  
  
"Um, I'm doing a project at school, where I have to run a bookshop for a year, and I was wondering if you could tell me about, on average, how many books you sell in a month."  
  
"Why, I'd be glad to help! You can call me Agnes, by the way," the woman said holding out her shriveled hand for Hermione to shake.  
  
"Hermione," she answered grasping the hand held before her.  
  
"Ah, what a pretty name. Now to business. Hmm, let me think...." Agnes put a finger to her temple and frowned in contemplation, "I'd have to say about 967.228 books a month to be exact."  
  
"Oh, thank you," Hermione said gratefully, "I asked Draco, the boy I'm working with, too find that number but, oh, he just won't do anything! I mean, the work was given to both of us, not just me, he hasn't done anythi—well, that isn't true. I guess he does do his fair share, but no after I remind him a million times a day!" she paused to catch her breath, "I'm really sorry to be pestering you. I guess I should be going."  
  
"Oh no, you're perfectly fine. But you should go now, they're serving turkey for dinner in the Great Hall at the moment; you don't want to miss that."  
  
"Darn! Stupid ferret making miss dinner now, and I'm starving. Thank you so much, Agnes, for all of your help; I really appreciate it."  
  
"My pleasure, and one more tip before you go."  
  
"Yes?" Hermione stopped as she approached the door.  
  
"Be wary of dark alleys, deary."  
  
"Um...thank you. Good-bye! And thanks again!" Hermione stepped outside only to discover that it was raining even harder than before.  
  
'Be wary of dark alleys.'  
  
~I wonder what she meant by that~ Hermione though to herself as she journeyed back to the castle. She was debating the idea of stopping by the Three Broomsticks to grab a quick butterbeer when two wet hands grabbed her from behind and dragged her screaming form into a nearby alley.  
  
She was roughly shoved against a wall, and the two hands found there way to her throat.  
  
"You scream or make a move and I break your neck, understand?" a dark husky voice said to her. Hermione nodded her head quickly in understanding.  
  
"Good, I have a message for Mr. Malfoy that I need you to give him."  
  
"Lucius?" she asked quietly with fear streamed from her eyes.  
  
"No, you stupid girl! Draco! Draco Malfoy! When you get back to the castle, tell him his tutoring shall commence at this week's end beginning at the same starting line."  
  
"Alright, I'll tell him. But what does it mean?" she whimpered.  
  
"That doesn't concern you! Just tell him!"  
  
He pushed her away from him into the empty street, disappearing into the shadows. Hermione rose and ran as fast as she could to her sanctuary. She could only imagine what this message meant for Draco, and it wasn't good.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Hermione ran to the doors of the Great Hall dripping wet and freezing cold. After a moment's contemplation, she decided it was best if she did not go inside, fearing too many question would be asked from Harry and Ron. Reconsidering her course of action, she darted to the owlry to send Draco a quick letter. Quickly, she scrawled something down on a spare piece of parchment, attached it to the nearest owl in reach, and ran off.  
  
~*~  
  
Draco was surprised when the auburn bird landing in front of his plate at the Slytherin table. It hooted at him annoyingly until he took the note from its claw. The owl flew off, and Draco read:  
  
Meet me in our room, immediately. There is something extremely important I need to tell you.  
  
The letter was messy and the ink was running on the damp paper, but Draco recognized it to be Hermione's handwriting. He looked up and noticed for the first time that she wasn't in her usual seat at the Gryffindor table. Dreading what he was about to face, he got up and walked to the room where they usually did their work. He assumed the note was about the project, so he wasn't worried.  
  
~*~  
  
Hermione pacing back and forth across the creaking floor when Draco walked through the threshold of the classroom. She ignored the very confused look on his face and ran to throw her arms around him.  
  
"I'm so sorry," she mumbled into his shoulder, "I didn't see him. I couldn't fight."  
  
"What the heck are you talking about, Granger?" he asked demandingly. He stiffened from her embrace, but didn't push her away entirely.  
  
"She said–she told me to be wary of the dark alleys. I should've known. I should've left earlier!"  
  
At this point, Draco was getting really annoyed. He firmly grasped the shaking girl's shoulders, and shook her, forcing her to look directly at him. He looked into her cold brown eyes and yelled,  
  
"Hermione! Stop it! Calm down tell and tell me what happened!"  
  
"He trapped me and told me to tell you to go to your 'tutoring' this Friday beginning at the same starting line," she cried.  
  
"Who? Who told you this?"  
  
"I don't know! I never got to see his face, but I think it was a Death Eater."  
  
"Damn," was all he could say.  
  
"Does this make any sense to you?" she asked as he loosened his hold on her.  
  
"Yes," he replied coldly.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Draco. This shouldn't be happening to you."  
  
"I don't want your sympathy, Hermione, but," he looked into her eyes and said honestly, "thanks anyway."  
  
"You're welcome, Draco." Hermione then stood on her toes to give him a slow kiss on the cheek and left to go to bed.  
  
Author's Note: So did you like it? You better have. Anyway, review like usual. Please. And any ideas on the next chappie would be appreciated, because I have no earthly idea what I am going to do next. 


	13. Healing Old Wounds

1Disclaimer-I own nothing

Gazy-I am so sorry. I could have sworn I checked over it! I just know I did! And I can't use italics. I don't know why, but whenever I type it that way, it always shows up differently on the site. It really pisses me off!

Lady Jade Green- It is sorta cliche, I know. But since there are so many Hermione-Draco fics out there, it's very hard to come up with something completely original.

Meg- hmm..... Interesting thought. Hehehehe. Thanks for the idea.

Chapter 13

Healing Old Wounds

"Are you sure you're going to do this?" Hermione asked Draco as he placed his expensive ebony cape over his strong shoulders. She had stopped him right as he was about to exit the great doors of the Hogwarts mansion to journey to Hogsmeade. It was the weekend, and time for Malfoy to face Voldemort–again. They now stood behind a decorative statue conversing quietly in the rather limited space.

"You don't have to do this," she continued looking him directly in his cold grey eyes.

"Yes I do."

"Why? What good can possibly come out of this tonight? If you go you're only going to—."

"If I don't go, they will kill me! And my father! And my family! Next, they will come here and kill and all the pissy little mudbloods like you!" he paused to take a breath as he saw hate flecked into Hermione's chocolate brown eyes, "Look, Hermione, I don't want to do this. I have to."

"What will you do then, when your are finally appointed the Dark Lord and must murder and steal just to get what you want. Once you go, there is no way out of this!"

"Don't worry about me," he spoke icily.

"I–I can't help it. Look, from all the time I've spent with you, I have grown to learn that you are not a cold-hearted criminal. And definitely no Dark Lord! Draco, please I'm begging you, don't go!"

"Don't tell me what to do! I am grown and can make up my own decisions, thank you! Just go back to your little Gryffindor tower 'thingy' and play 'Hero' with all of your pansy friends! I am evil, Hermione! That's the way I was raised, and it will never change!"

"Fine! Go murder! And get killed for all I care! I can't believe I ever tried to be

'Draco Malfoy's' friend! You know what, you are evil, and someday someone is going to hurt you the way you have hurt others all or your life!"

She seemed extremely hurt now–and angry. Her body stiffened and a hateful grimace spread across her innocent features. Her words pierced through Draco's heart, even though she didn't mean a word of it, "Fine. You leave now, and never come back, for all I care. Again and again I try to be friendly with you, and all I receive in return is insults for caring about you! I guess you do enjoy it. Go, go spread the world with your lies and death spells. It isn't like we don't live in Hell already!" she forcefully pushed him from their hiding spot and urged him to the doors. She even pulled one open for him, "Leave, snake!" she whispered as he walked past her.

"I will only be back too soon, mudblood," he yelled back and yanked the door closed behind him. Startled by her own hostile actions, Hermione quickly ran into the nearest girl's washroom before she collapsed in a fit of sorrowful tears. A while later, a scared first year wandered in. Hermione screamed at her and made her leave.

Hermione finally left the washroom at dinnertime, so she wouldn't run into anyone on her way to the Gryffindor common room. True to her plan, the halls were deserted, save a few late students scrambling to the Great Hall in hopes that there is still food left.

The distressed girl silently apologized for her bitter words to her classmate as she made her way back to the Tower. She hung her head and studied the ground as she walked. The floor was marble with lovely tints of blue and green swirled together. It were spotless and even showed Hermione's pale reflection in its endless depths of light. She stopped.

Hermione crouched to the ground and stroked her image in the stone, "Am in really that cold?" she asked herself.

"No, you're just having a bad day," the reflection replied, "go take a nap," it said to her, smirking. It waved at her a smiled a big, toothy grin.

"Well, it's good to know that everyone doesn't hate me," Hermione said cheering up a bit, "Yes, a nap sounds good. Any more advice, O wise one?" she asked sarcastically to...well...herself.

"Yes, actually. Don't stay asleep too long, You will have a visitor."

"What?" Hermione asked, but the reflection now showed nothing but her true self. Agitated, yet relieved, she got up to go take that nap.

"What is it with people telling me the future?" she asked, "First that Agnes character, and now this? Strange." After she had taken a few steps, she stumbled over her feet, but soon returned to her short journey.

Moments later she found herself crawling under the warm, comfortable flannel sheets of her four-poster bed in the Gryffindor Tower.

"What do you want?" the figure asked from behind her. Hermione was blinded by darkness and surrounded by secrets. She didn't know where she was, or who was talking to her.

"Talk to me. Please!" it said again. She could now recognize it was a boy's voice–deep, sultry. She didn't know what to say. She didn't even know who she was speaking to! She tried the first thing that came to her mind.

"I-I'm sorry?" she said quietly.

"Sorry for what, Hermione?! You hate me. You always have, and I will always hate you! Nothing can change that. You– We can't to this! You wake up something inside me that I've never felt before—."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked as curiosity bubbled within her mind.

"Nothing-nothing. Let's just go back to the way it was before," the boy said with a sigh.

Hermione didn't know why, but a mixture of guilt and sadness was forming in the pit of her stomach now that he said good-bye. But who was he? What had she done with him that he felt was so shameful? Again at a loss for words, she turned and spoke to him just as he was about to leave,

"No!" She only saw his face for a second yet recognized him immediately, but he was fading. The whole room was too, being replaced with aggravated shouts.

"Hermione, shut up already! Some of us are trying to sleep!" Parvati yelled from her bed as Hermione woke up screaming.

"Don't be so mean to her, Parvati," Lavender interrupted, "she was probably having a romantic dream about Viktor Krum or something," she added dreamily.

"Oh, you hush, too. I'm going to bed." Parvarti said bitterly and shut the curtains around her bed with a snap.

"'Night, Hermione," Lavender said before shutting her own screens.

Hermione lay back on her bed, and pondered the dream.

"That was Draco, I'm sure of it," she said very quietly to herself, "but why was he in my dream?"

She tried to go back to sleep, but some foreboding presence lingered in her thoughts and kept her awake. Whenever she closed her eyes for a second, she would see Draco's face as it had been it the dream—sad, confused. His eyes-oh, those pale silver eyes shadowed by years of torment were engraved on her eyelids and wouldn't leave her head.

Restless, she rose out of bed, and placed a warm robe on her cold shoulders over her thin nightdress. She started walking, first out of her dorm, and then out the Fat Lady's portrait.

Then Hogwarts halls were silent, and her bare feet echoed on the cold floor. Unconsciously, her steps took her to the door of the secret room she shared with Draco. Yes, a good book was exactly the type of thing she needed right now. She opened the door.

Suddenly, she thought she was dreaming again. Those eyes, she was looking into those eyes, two ominous storms brewing behind a glassy shield. And he was looking at her, too.

In the awkward silence, Hermione behind knowledgeable about the reason for Draco's presence. He was sitting on the table in the room, one foot resting for balance on the floor and one knee against his chest. His arm was bleeding badly from a gash just below his right shoulder. His shirt had assumingly been removed as he was attempting to bandage it himself.

"God, Draco, what do you think you're doing!?" she yelled quietly.

"Go away," angry because of her uneventful appearance.

"No! I tired of it. Now obviously you need help. Just forget about how much you hate me for one second, and let me help you with that," she gestured to his injured appendage, "before you bleed to death!" She walked up to him, indifferent to his lack of clothing, and took his pale, mucscular arm into her hands. A drop of blood trickled onto her finger and gracefully collapsed to the floor.

"Give me your shirt," she demanded. Grudgingly, he gave her the abandoned sweater which soon found its way to his arm to stop the bleeding of the wound.

"Hey! I didn't say you could use that as a blood rag!" Draco protested. Hermione didn't respond.

After a few silent minutes of wiping and soaking, the girl started examining the cut with her adept fingers.

"It isn't very deep, but I still think you should go see Pomfrey tomorrow."

"And what am I supposed to say, huh?! That I was dueling with Voldemort and messed up on my Shielding Charm! I bet that'll go over well with the administration," he snorted.

"Fine, die of infection."

"You must really want me to die tonight."

"I didn't mean it like that. Sorry, it's late. What else can you expect?" Draco didn't speak for a moment, but when he did, he said something Hermione wasn't ready for,

"I don't hate you," he whispered.

"What do you mean?" she replied, shocked by his somewhat considerate words.

"You asked for me to stop hating you for a moment so that you—Ow! That hurt!" he yelled at she pressed a finger to his wound. He drew back instinctively and cradled his hurt arm with the other one.

"Well, sorry," she said sarcastically with a smile, "I think you should just put a makeshift bandage on it before you go to sleep, and then seriously go to the hospital wing tomorrow. She shouldn't ask too many questions."

"I can't tell you what really happened," Draco said softly looking at her again. He could tell it in her eyes that she was begging for answers but trying to be polite.

"I know," she replied.

Silence.

"I'd better go put something on this before it starts bleeding again. Thanks, Hermione," he said shyly an clumsily stood up from the table. He grabbed his discarded clothing and faced her.

"Your welcome...Draco," she said tilting her head up to look at him.

They stood like that for a while. Neither knew what to say; they were both confused. But suddenly in the semi-darkness, their faces slowly began to grow closer together.Hermione could feel Draco's sweet breath on her cheek now. He was staring at her; and she was staring straight back at him, his eyes melting like butter under her gaze. Their lips were almost touching.

"What are we doing?" Hermione whispered.

"I don't know," Draco replied even quieter, and kissed her.

Author's Note: So, did you like? I thought the ending was very sweet. Oh, when will my 'Draco' come for me? Too late if you ask me, but you didn't so let's get on with it. There was a line in there where Hermione stumbled. I don't know if you understood, but it is an old superstition that if someone trips, I symbolizes something bad in the future. Now, kissing Draco wasn't bad-, but seeing him all bloody and injured wasn't pleasant. Review please!

Until Next time...


	14. Closets and Secrets

Disclaimer-I own nothing  
  
IlUvDrAcOmAlFoY - yah, I love him too. Anyways, I agree with you. I mean, I'm not trying to be egotistical or anything, bit I think this is a pretty darn good story, and I'm glad to be getting reviews at all. But it really pisses me off when just horrible stories get tons of reviews, when they don't deserve it at all! Thank you so much for all your compliments, this one's for you.  
  
Author's Note: So sorry people, I would have had this updated before I went on vacation, but I couldn't get online. Sorry again.  
  
Chapter 14  
  
Closets and Secrets  
  
The small closet was dark and musty, but the couple inside didn't seem to notice their unusual surroundings, at all– even when a rat scurried over the girl's feet in hot pursuit of a plump gray moth.  
  
Draco and Hermione had chosen this very secluded spot to...er...study.  
  
"When was the last witch burning of colonial London?" Hermione breathed as she broke from Draco's hold for a gasp of air.  
  
"1654," Draco said quickly and grabbed Hermione and kissed her again on the lips. She returned his touch and slyly snaked her slim arms around his waist, as he lost his hands in her soft hair.  
  
"We're not going to accomplish anything like this. We've got exams coming up and—"  
  
"You worry too much," Draco responded as he kissed her neck.  
  
"No I'm serious, we really need to—" This time he shut her up with his palm.  
"Shh! I hear footsteps," he said stifling her voice of surprise.  
  
"Damn! No one's down here. I could have sworn I heard something," a muffled voice said from outside.  
  
"It's alright, Ron; we'll find her," Harry said.  
  
"Yah, yah. But ever since she started studying with Malfoy, she's gotten all weird. I mean, she is never around anymore," the red-headed boy put in.  
  
"Come on, let's got. We've got Quidditch practice."  
  
"Oh, yes, wouldn't want to be late, oh mighty captain," Ron muttered sarcastically as they both walked off.  
  
Once the coast was clear, Draco and Hermione appeared from an almost invisible door lodged into the cold stone wall.  
  
"I told you this was a bad idea," Hermione stated putting hands on hips. Draco just smirked and kissed her quickly on the lips.  
  
"Good night smart-ass, I just found somebody's practice to ruin," he said and turned to leave.  
  
"You're horrible, you know that," she said wrapping her arms around him; he grinned with pride, "See you tomorrow," she said and gave him another kiss good-bye.  
  
"I really do have to go," Draco said finally.  
  
"OK, good night then," Hermione responded sweetly. He turned and began walking, "Don't do anything too evil!" she added just before he was out of earshot. Hermione sighed and began walking the other way. It wasn't too late, so there were still a few of the older students walking around and mingling. So were the teachers.  
  
Hermione was just walking past the door of a classroom. It was the Potions classroom, and inside, she could hear the Potions master conversing loudly with another teacher.  
  
"Dumbledore says you have more details on His plan, am I right, Stults?" Snape asked quietly with bitterness lingering in his tone.  
  
"Yes, it isn't good. It could mean the death of one of our best students," the attractive Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher said, sounding almost frightened.  
  
Hermione stopped, she didn't know who the Professors was referring to; still, curiosity got the best of her at the mention of the 'student'. The hallway suddenly became empty, and she stopped just outside the doorway to listen. She heard footsteps. Professor Stults was pacing.  
  
"Well! Are you going to tell me?" Snape demanded, "Who is it going to be?"  
  
"You won't like it. I was hoping–praying–that Voldermort wouldn't choose him, but he did. It seems our boy has quite the knack for the Dark Arts."  
  
"Who is he?"  
  
"Malfoy."  
  
Snape was quiet. In the silence, Hermione slowly put two and two together, "They know Draco's the heir," she said to herself.  
  
"You know what we have to do, Severus," Jillian said in response to the silence, "he must have wanted it, because I don't believe Voldermort would pick someone completely resistant."  
  
"We can't kill him! That's my godson, you're talking about—!"  
  
"Oh, don't get all sentimental, now! If we don't somehow get Draco out of the picture, we're going to have one wand-happy Lord-to-be on our hands. Severus, you must understand! This is a war-a black and white battle against good and evil! We can't have him stuck in the middle just because we are feeling indecisive. Please, tell me you understand."  
  
"You will not kill him. Draco is at a very influential age, maybe we could persuade him to join the Order," Snape insisted pleadingly.  
  
"And what if Voldermort found out about this. We can't afford to make any mistakes. Just think about it, Severus." Hermione could practically hear the sympathy dripping from her voice. She truly was sincere.  
  
But Hermione couldn't think. They were going to kill Draco! But...but only if they knew that he didn't really want this burden. She had to tell someone. Dumbledore! She ran as fast as she could to the horrific gargoyle carved out of cold, grey stone, the shade of Draco's eyes, that led to the dwelling of Headmaster and Professor Dumbledore.  
  
She stopped. She didn't know the password.  
  
"Fizzing Whizbees!" Nothing.  
  
"Jelly Slugs!...Canary Creams!...Hostile Hornet- puffs!....Jumbo..er..Jackrabbits!" Still nothing. Hermione was about to give up. When,  
  
"Miss Granger, did you need something," the old Professor said as he came from the end of the corridor. The girl was startled by his sudden appearance, but grateful, all the same. She ran up to him,  
  
"Sir, I think we should talk."  
  
"Why, of course. Let's go into my office," he walked to the gargoyle, "Popper Pepper Pastries!" The figure sprouted to life and revealed the staircase.  
  
"That was my next guess," Hermione muttered amusingly to herself as she followed Dumbledore up to his office.  
  
When Hermione reached the office, she sat in a straight-backed chair across from the littered desk.  
  
"Tea, Hermione?" he asked sitting.  
  
"No thank you, Headmaster. I overheard something today–a conversation between Snape and Professor Stults."  
  
"Go on."  
  
"Well, I should start at the beginning," she proceeded in explaining to him about how she discovered Malfoy's secret (leaving out the parts about their 'intimate' moments, of course). Then she repeated what she had found out eavesdropping, "They can't kill him! He doesn't even want to be Voldermort!" she cried when Dumbledore didn't say anything. He just sat, looking at her with sparkling periwinkle eyes behind transparent, crescent spectacles.  
  
"I see you have been very well-informed about what's going on here," he finally said.  
  
"I don't know what to do," she cried sadly, "I don't want him to get hurt. But I don't want Voldermort to win, either."  
  
"Hmm..are you sure that Mr. Malfoy does not want any part of this."  
  
"Yes, but, he would kill me if he knew I told you. I promised."  
  
"Don't worry, some promises are best shared with others. I will do everything in my power to keep Draco safe. I can see he means a lot to you."  
  
"Wait I—,"  
  
"Be off, Hermione. Remember, you still have homework to do," Dumbledore said waving his wrinkled hands. Hermione rose open-mouthed and silently walked out.  
  
"Kids these days," Dumbledore muttered cheerfully as the door closed, "never will understand them."  
  
Author's Note: Well, well, I hoped you liked. That beginning part was pretty interesting. Especially since I wrote at school, in the middle of class, while I was supposed to be studying for exams. Oh, well. Please review. I will love you forever. Meanwhile, I will be in Florida! Spring Break!  
  
Until Next Time...... 


	15. Troubles and Sorrow

1Author's Note: Hey people! I know I've been working on this chapter for a while, but nothing has come to me lately. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 15

"Okay, Draco, do you have the chart....good. Now where did I put that essay?" Hermione asked herself frantically. It was almost midnight, and she and Draco were meeting in their 'secret room' for probably the last time.

"Stop worrying so much, it isn't that big of a deal," Draco said with a smirk on his face. He was lounging in a decrepit wooden chair, leaning it back on its hind legs so that he could rest his feet on the table. Hermione lifted her head from the monstrosity of papers in front of her and glared at the pompous boy.

"Atromius," she muttered with her wand, and a huge gust of wind blew toward Draco sending the chair collapsing backwards and him plummeting to the floor. Now it was her turn to smirk.

"What was that for!" he yelled annoyed as he pulled himself up. Just as he almost regained his balance, he tripped on a book and fell, face-first, to the ground—again. Hermione tried hard to hide her giggling, but didn't succeed and doubled over laughing uncontrollably. Of course, this made Draco even more annoyed.

"That wasn't funny!"

"Actually it was quite amusing. But seriously, we need to get this done. We're presenting tomorrow, and it counts as our exam grade," she said getting suddenly serious.

"Well, I'm not going to help you," Draco said sternly crossing his arms. Although, his face looked somber, his eyes were alive with amusement.

Hermione sighed. "Oh, stop it, you big baby.....have you seen our closing essay? I just finished it. I can't believe it's gone already!"

"Here it is," Draco said and handed the scroll of parchment to her as he reseated himself, "I was checking over while you were running around like a chicken with its head cut off. Now that was funny."

She snatched it from him, "Well, is it good enough for you?" she asked sarcastically.

"I guess it was decent, considering that I didn't write it, in which case it would be superb. But it was good enough."

"Ugh! You make me so mad sometimes Draco Malfoy," she giggled.

"Now that you have that, are we through?" he asked eagerly.

"Yes, we're done. It's kinda sad, though. We will never meet here again after this."

"Yah, right. Uh... We should have some have some kind of party in honor of the occasion."

"What occasion?" Hermione asked suspiciously.

"I have no idea, but sit down." She obeyed and sat on the table cross-legged so she could face Draco who now was also cross-legged. He bent down to reach for his bag and reappeared with two ice cold butterbeers in his hands. He placed them on the table and sat across from Hermione who was now smiling.

"Awww, Draco, where did you get these?" she asked sweetly.

"Just a little gift from the kitchens."

"Thank you, really. Come now, let's have a toast."

"You're kidding me," he said as he stared at her, dumbfounded. She frowned.

"Yes, I am serious. Oh, why not? It's just for fun."

"Fine, Miss Priss, whatever you say," he shot his bottle upward in his hand before she could say anything, "A toast! To straight O's in everything we do from this day forward!"

"Here, here!" Hermione yelled a little too loud, and took a deep swig of her drink. For a while after, all you could here were there gulps of the beer and sighs of contentment.

"So, Granger, what are you going to do over the holidays?" Draco asked.

"Oh, nothing much. Harry, Ron, and I are all staying here for, I guess, obvious reasons. Mrs. Weasley isn't too keen on any of us traveling with Voldermort running around. And, I kinda want to stay here, too, for my own reasons." A smile crept across Hermione's innocent features and she looked at Draco from beneath her dark lashes.

Draco appeared startled and momentarily defensive. "I'm not staying, Hermione," he said sternly.

"What do you mean you aren't staying?! You have to; I won't let you leave!"

"Hermione, we've talked about this before. I have to go! Father has already made arrangements for it."

"For what?! Huh? Are you going to have another lesson? This time, weeks long without any interruptions? Do you have idea what you could be thought to accomplish in that time span. It's almost Christmas, and in a maniac's eyes, there isn't any better time to do something horrible!"

"Stop it! I can't take your nagging anymore!" Draco yelled as loud as Hermione.

"You can't take my nagging? What about the knowledge that you're about to be responsible for the lives of innocent people? Or the fact that you refuse to do something against it. Or maybe it's that you are still the same scared, ferret-faced little boy that's taunted me and my friends for the past five years, and you're too puny to speak for yourself!" Hermione screamed.

They were both very angry, and now very hurt by each other's words. Each stared inot his or her lap, afraid to look into the eyes of the other combatant.

"I didn't mean it like that," Hermione whispered.

"Then how did you mean it? It seemed perfectly honest to me. I guess it is good to know how you really feel about me."

"No," Hermione started raising her head, "that is how I used to feel about you, but...now...you've changed."

Draco looked at her now.

"You've changed so much."

"Hermione?"

"Yes, Draco?"

"I'll write to Father tomorrow, asking him if I can stay. I guess I could use a break before we decide on any course of action."

"That would be great." They sat like that for a while longer, staring at each other. After Hermione broke into a yawn, she got up and said good-night to her partner.

"Thank you," Draco said to her as she walked out the door.

"You're welcome, Draco, see you tomorrow."

Dear Father,

I know that I am supposed to come home for the Christmas holidays since I am required to attend my lessons with the tutor, but I request the permission to take a break from these rendezvous. You see, I am becoming exhausted with the immense workload be put on me, and some are beginning to get suspicion as to my whereabouts during certain times. I know that I should be immune to fatigue, but I think that I should be at full strength the next time I have a tutoring session. Also, I haven't had a real Quidditch sessions in a while, and I am somewhat missing my Nimbus. Staying at Hogwarts seem quite remedial to me at the moment, even though mudbloods do reside here. Maybe I could use some of them for target practice.

Your Son,

Draco

Author's Note: I hope you liked it. I promise to have a bigger and better chapter up soon. Review please.

Until Next Time.....


	16. Confessions

**Chapter 16**

**Confessions**

The winter holidays had come, and many students were scrambling about the school corridors preparing for their departure. The train was leaving in half an hour and the halls were a mess of crowded, disorderly confusion. Hermione made her way through the mass of students clutching a new book she had just borrowed from the library. She watched as a first year Hufflepuff girl tripped in the crowd and accidentally threw the load she was carrying to the ground. Hermione ran to help her retrieve the scattered items. The girl smiled timidly and ran off. When Hermione straightened up, she saw Draco Malfoy standing directly in front of her with his eyes cold and wearing a nonchalant expression.

"Get out of the way, Granger," he spat menacingly.

"I was here first," Hermione replied bitterly. She tried to read his eyes, but nothing came to her.

"Filth," he muttered as he passed her. Surreptitiously, he slipped a tiny slip of paper into her fist. Hermione continued to fight her way through the crowds and opened the note once she had reached the safety of her empty dormitory. She unfolding the paper and read the small, neat writing.

_  
One hour; you know where_

She read the note twice before tossing it into the lit fireplace across the room. The paper caught fire and the ends blackened and curled upward before it turned completely to ash. Hermione collapsed onto the scarlet sheets of her four-poster bed and sighed. She hadn't talked to Draco in days, and now he seemed angry.

"Damn," she muttered quietly to herself. _He seemed so cold _she thought silently. She didn't know whether to be happy to be seeing him again or desperate that he seemed so angry with her. "He's just too damn moody, damn it!" she said loudly. Lavender, who had just walked in, gave her a funny look,

"Talking to yourself again, Hermione?" she asked with a smile.

"You know me, Lavender," Hermione replied with a small grin, "By the way, who are you dating now?" she asked.

"Andrew Harlington, he's a Ravenclaw seventh year," Lavender said sweetly. Hermione chuckled and continued to stare at the ceiling.

After half an hour's contemplation and Lavender's gentle small talk, she decided that the only way she was going to figure out what was bothering Draco was to go see him. Unlike usual, she felt a burden in her heart at the thought of him and knew it couldn't be good. Reluctantly, she pulled her protesting limbs out of bed and went to the bathroom grabbing a fresh set of clothes on her way.

She took off her shoes and stockings and stood barefoot on the surprisingly warm tile of the bathroom floor as she undid her school robes and removed her sweater. She placed them neatly on the floor then she loosened her tie, unbuttoned her blouse and unfastened her skirt. After she moved the pile aside, she stood there in front of the mirror almost naked and examined herself.

A pale face with warm brown eyes and rosy lips stared back at her. She looked closer and saw deep purple circles under her eyes. Too tired to do something about them, Hermione splashed warm water on her face and over her bare arms. She reached for her clean set of clothes and put on a pair of warm, black trousers and a soft crimson jumper with long sleeves and a deep v-neck. She gathered her other clothing and walked out of the bathroom to place them on the trunk at the foot of her bed. She put on a pair of black boots and left to meet with Draco.

Hermione walked through the halls and slowly made her way to the room. The corridors were now empty; even Peeves could not be found disturbing the peace. _It's lunch-time, _she realized, but she wasn't hungry. Her shoes clanked loudly on the floor and her breathing became brief and ragged. After walking down many sets of stairs and being challenged to a duel by Sir Cadagon, she found herself looking at the door. I loomed before her ominously like a curtain to the unknown. _Sirius passed through a curtain that lead to his death, what will this lead me to? _she asked silently, but slapped herself mentally for saying something so stupid. She stood there for many moments looking for some kind of an answer, but none came, and she opened the door.

It swung open without a creak and Hermione saw Draco standing facing the wall opposite her. His arms were folded across his chest and his head was bowed. She didn't know if he had heard her or not so she walked inside and closed the door loudly behind her. He still didn't turn.

"I assume you're staying for the holidays then?" she said quietly. He still wouldn't acknowledge her, "I'm expecting to get a nice set of dress robes from my parents." Still, he didn't speak, so she continued talking to no one in particular, "I bought a book for a Harry and a new broom kit for Ron. I really hope he likes it— "

"I didn't come here to talk about presents, Hermione," he interrupted.

"Then say something, Draco, please," she answered.

"We can't do this anymore; it's too dangerous," he said.

"Do-do what?" she asked, her voice quivering. He turned to face her. His hair was messy and his dark clothes were wrinkled. She looked into his eyes and saw nothing but pain.

"We can't be together like this. My father told me I could stay at Hogwarts for Christmas on one condition: that I keep away from any mudbloods that might interfere with the Dark Lord's plans. The way he spoke led me to believe that he new about us, and I won't let them hurt you for being involved with me." He paused and ran his right hand through his hair. His sleeves were rolled up to the elbows and Hermione saw the Dark Mark taunting her from his wrist. She was silent, urging him to continue. He did. "I brought you hear to tell you that this was it. We can't see each other anymore in private. It isn't worth either of us getting killed."

Hermione took one shaky breath, and another willing her heart to steady itself after his dreadful words. But the pounding continued, threatening to escape her chest. She felt it in her throat and in her cheeks. Her entire body felt hot and she knew her face was blushed. Her eyes began to water and one salty tear fell down her cheek; though, she couldn't figure out why she felt this way. She knew that whatever they had was doomed, but she never cared about that whenever he had touched her. Draco wasn't looking at her anymore; his eyes were staring at the ground and his arms were back across his chest.

"You tell me this now?" she started angrily, "you knew we couldn't do this all along, yet you continued to draw me in. Why didn't you tell me this earlier before—"

"Before what?"

"Before I started caring about you! You did this to me! You gave me this feeling in my heart, you send my nerves on fire every time you touch me. You make me feel that I can't live without you."

"You think I did this!" he yelled loudly. He was looking at her now. His hands were balled in fists at his sides and his eyes were bright and furious, "It was you Hermione Granger that enchanted me with your wicked spell. It's you!" he pointed a long, pale finger at her, "with your big eyes and your bushy hair that makes me think about you every minute of every damn day! You make me kiss you, you make me hold you, and even you make me–you make me love you," he finished.

"What did you say," she whispered after a few seconds of silence. His eyes widened as he came to realization over what he just said.

"Nothing," he said quickly.

"That wasn't nothing, Draco. You said you loved me; now stop lying and tell me the truth!"

"Hermione stop, I told you we can't do this," he said urgently.

"Well I don't care!" she yelled, "You said you loved me; now tell me, do you really love me?"

"It will only makes things hard."

"Things are already hard enough without us denying our feelings for each other."

"Fine!" he screamed. He rushed forward suddenly and grabbed her forearms firmly, "I'll tell, I'll tell you a million times that I love you! Are you happy now? But what I feel for you is dangerous. You wake up something in me that I've never felt before, and I'm scared. I'm scared to bloody death of this. It makes my bones quiver in a way not even ten Voldemorts could."

"Then why do you want me to leave?" she asked him. More hot tears were spilling from her eyes. She could feel the heat emanating from Draco he was so close to her now. His breath was warm and musky on her face.

"I don't! But you must, for the sake of both our lives."

Hermione could feel her arms bruising under his grasp but she didn't care. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and her blood was boiling in her veins. "We'll die anyway, don't you understand?" she asked him quietly, "Without you, I will die. I'll die if I can't see your face or kiss your lips, Draco. My heart will burst in agony without you, and I'll be alone forever."

He spoke, "If I allow you to stay with me, you will die at the hand of Death Eaters. And they will make me watch as you are tortured and raped and beaten!"

"Better to die together than deny our hearts' desires and die miserable. That is a guaranteed fate. But you do not know what will happened in the future with us; you cannot See. We may not die that way if we stay strong in each other."

"But we can't do that."

"Then tell me what we can do!" she screamed into his face. Her cheeks were wet, as were his, but as he held her, she saw something break in his eyes. She watched as he let all the shields go, and she watched as he pulled her to him and kissed her forcefully with enough passion to make her explode.

She moved her lips against his as she felt the pressure of his mouth and tasted the saltiness of both their tears. She broke apart his lips with her tongue and welcomed him into her even more. He never released her arms from his grasp but continued to squeeze harder with his nails into her flesh through the thick material of the sweater. Hermione's knees gave way, and she wrapped her arms around Draco's neck to keep from falling. His arms made their way around her waist so he could pull her body even closer to mold against his.

He retreated from her lips momentarily to say, "Hermione, we have to decide now. Are we going to stop now and forget all this, or stay with each other?"

"What do you want?" Hermione asked in a whisper. He looked at her and she could see the love he had been denying pouring out of his eyes.

"I want nothing more than to have you here by my side for the rest of my life," he said honestly. Hermione brought his head down and gave him a soft kiss on his forehead.

"Right answer," she muttered before kissing kiss lips again.

Christmas morning, Draco woke shivering in the cold dungeons. He rose quickly out of bed and put on a black sweater and a pair of khaki corduroys. The rest of the Slytherin sixth year boys were still asleep, and snores could be heard clearly from curtained beds. There was a small fire burning in the hearth to the right of his bed, but it did little to warm the chilled room.

Still shivering, Draco saw a large pile of presents at the foot of his bed. The first few were from his parents–a large sack of galleons and a thick black journal encrusted with the Malfoy family seal. Among his other gifts were more galleons, a large box of Honeydukes candy, and deep green cashmere turtleneck from an expensive shop in Diagon Alley. He sorted through the pile of wrappings and came upon a small, yet heavy black box with silver ribbon wrapped around it. He opened the box carefully and took out an object wrapped in many layers of tissue. He tore the tissue away and was left with a miniature dragon statue in his palm.

The dragon was pure silver and had emerald colored jewels for eyes. Draco touched the spine with his free hand and felt every detail marked under his touch. The skin even felt warm. He looked closer and saw that the scales also reflected green in the light. He was startled as the figure unexpectedly came alive. The dragon flapped its wide, silver wings, roared, and opened its mouth as a pillar of fire flew from its throat. Draco barely got his head out of the way before his eyebrows were burnt off.

He set the figure on the stand next to his bed and picked up the box the dragon had come in. There was a card at the bottom, but it had no name on it. Instead, there were three simple words:

_  
I Love You_

Draco smiled as he realized who the dragon was from. He tossed his other presents lazily onto his bed and left to go to breakfast as the beast on the night stand breathed another column of flames.


End file.
